Retirement Year
by djenie
Summary: Jack retired after the first Abydos mission. He was recalled a year later. What did he do during that year of retirement? This is a series of stories that might have been. At this point the only SG character I plan to include, in any significant manner, is Jack. I've un-checked the "Complete" option because this has become more of a continuing story.
1. Chapter 1

**Well... I need to publish something new like I need another hole in my head! But the idea's been sitting in my computer for a while and I might as well post it. I intend for this to be a series of short, self-contained stories. I've already published one in the series, "Christmas Hockey" and I may take that down and make it part of this group.**

**The usual disclaimers - which I mostly forget to put in anyway! They aren't mine. I make no money. I don't own nothin'. Original characters are mine, but probably I give them up when I put them in one of these stories.**

**I have a vague recollection that the first Abydos mission took place in early Fall, so I'm starting Jack's retirement year with October. **

**I hope you enjoy it!**

OCTOBER SILENCE

The house was too quiet, so he kept the TV on nearly 24/7. Sometimes he sat down and watched a game or something, but mostly he kept it on the cartoon channel or kid's shows, turned down low, but just enough to be background noise. He liked to hear the characters voices and music from Sesame Street and Reading Rainbow, because Charlie had loved those shows. Of course, sometimes the sounds made him sad, especially when there were children's voices. When that happened, he would switch to the adult cartoons or the comedy channel for a while.

It was sheer inertia that had made Jack O'Neill stay in Colorado Springs after the mission to Abydos. He simply didn't feel like moving, and he had no place to go. And no one to go home to. Sara had filed for divorce, and was keeping the house in Denver. He regretted the divorce, but raised no objections. She needed to do what was best for her. When he received the papers, he signed them just as she asked.

He even bought a house. It was located in one of the outlying neighborhoods, in the foothills north of Cheyenne Mountain. There was a large yard, and he was separated from his neighbors by rows of trees and hedges. This suited him just fine. It wasn't a new house. In fact it needed a lot of work. That was also fine with him. It gave him something to do.

He spent his days working on the house. He knocked out a couple of walls and made the living room and kitchen one large open space, installing new kitchen cabinets and upgraded appliances. In the living room he refaced the fireplace with stone, and hired a mason to build a new chimney. He expanded the master bedroom by eliminating a small office, and adding that area to the room, then installing sliding glass doors which opened out onto the back deck. He also added an en suite bathroom adjoining the master bedroom. Upstairs there were three small bedrooms, and again he took out walls and created one fairly large guest room (for what guests he had no idea, since he didn't know anyone in Colorado Springs), and a small 'study' which opened out onto the house's best feature—the roof deck.

The roof deck was the whole reason he had chosen this house, and on clear nights he was always up there with the telescope he'd bought and set up. The Colorado night sky was spectacular by any standards, and he stared endlessly at the stars, searching for some clue as to where Abydos might be located. His astronomy degree from college and supplemental physics classes from the Academy were a help—he'd been able to follow a lot of what the scientists working on the Stargate had been saying. The idea of a wormhole was not entirely incomprehensible to him. He'd seen the constellations when Daniel had figured out the symbols, and he understood Daniel's explanation for determining the Stargate destinations. Some of those constellations were visible in the sky above him (others were too far to make out), and so he had made an educated guess as to which part of the sky he needed to search.

After a few weeks he realized that the telescope he had was not adequate to the task he'd set for himself, and so he spent several thousand dollars on a top-of-the-line instrument which was a huge improvement on his old one. The expanded view this gave him was magnificent, and he was still in the process of sorting out everything that he could see. He felt that gradually he was narrowing down the area where the Abydos star was located. It would still take him many months to reach his goal—perhaps even years—but he had nothing better to do with his time. He'd set this as a science project for himself, refusing to acknowledge the true reason for his interest—that Daniel and Skaara and the other Abydonian kids were there, and he needed to feel close to them.

He didn't sleep much. He often had trouble falling asleep, and lying there awake with only his thoughts was not something he looked forward to. Plus sleeping always carried the risk of nightmares, from which he would wake terrified and disoriented. Sometimes after a few beers he would doze off, but it never turned into a restful sleep. He'd always wake after only two or three hours, with a dry throat, an achy head, and probably a crick in his neck or back because he fell asleep on the sofa.

For exercise he would go for a run very early in the morning or in the middle of the day, picking those hours to try to avoid meeting any of his neighbors by accident; he took a route up into the foothills, along an unpaved road that ended at a small lake. Usually he circled the lake and headed back down. The track reminded him of the area around the cabin in Minnesota, where he had spent many summers as a boy. The entire route was about six miles, and he considered it a decent workout, if hardly up to Air Force standards. It kept him in shape, along with the rowing machine and weights that he had in the upstairs study. When the weather turned snowy and cold—way too early in October this year—he added a treadmill to his equipment. Soon he found he was leaving the house less and less frequently.

Late one afternoon after his hour on the treadmill, he was in the kitchen getting a snack before heading for a shower. He'd left the TV on while he was exercising, and a voice caught his attention. Pausing, he watched a scene from a cartoon play out on the screen, and found himself laughing out loud. It had been a long time since anything had truly made him laugh. Forgetting about the shower, he settled himself on the couch to watch the rest of the show. After that he watched 'The Simpsons' often.

The days grew shorter and shorter, and Jack became more and more reclusive. He had his groceries, beer and liquor delivered, and found a retail site online with overnight delivery where he could order just about anything else he needed. By late October, he was just about finished with the improvements on his house, so there was no need to seek out any further materials. He hadn't spoken to anyone face-to-face in weeks.

On Halloween night he left his porch light on, and set out a huge bowl of candy for Trick-or-Treaters, instead of answering the door. He watched from a window to make sure there were enough treats. In the past he would have dressed up and gone to the door, sporting a clown mask or a pirate hat. It had always been great fun to see the kids in their costumes, and talk and joke with them. Now he simply glanced out now and then, and spent the evening sitting in the dark, as the memory of Charlie in last Halloween's Batman costume reduced him to silent tears.

**~X~X~X~X~**


	2. Chapter 2

NOVEMBER: A FRIEND INDEED

He found the dog on a snowy November morning—or maybe that should be, the dog found him. On the dog's part at least, it was love at first bark!

It was a medium size short-hair mix of some kind, brown and white, with huge, soulful brown eyes. By the look of the head, there was some boxer in the mix, although it was a bit small for that breed. It was on the back deck the morning after Halloween, when Jack stumbled out to the kitchen about 0800, with a pounding head, thanks to the—how the hell many were they?—beers that he drank the night before. Not that the alcohol had helped him sleep, he'd tossed and turned and been awakened several times by disturbing dreams that he couldn't quite remember. He felt as if he'd spent the night running a marathon. What he wouldn't give for a long, restful slumber!

He didn't even see the dog at first, he was too busy looking for the aspirin and fumbling with the coffee maker. The damned appliance refused to cooperate and pretty soon he was ready to just chew the grounds! His hand was shaking as he poured water into the top of the machine, sloshing it over a bit onto the countertop. He ignored the spill, it was just water.

The dog yipped loudly—just once, it was a well-behaved pup—and Jack jumped about a foot and almost dropped the carafe. Setting it carefully on the hot plate, he switched on the dratted mechanical monster, and then turned around to see what he had heard. His ears were ringing so badly, he wasn't sure what it might have been—could've been anything from a squeaky door to... well, a brown and white dog.

The poor pup was crouched in the snow on the deck, as close to the glass door as it could get, big sad eyes gazing pleadingly into the warm kitchen. Even from across the room Jack could see it shivering. And since he was completely incapable of ignoring any living thing that looked that pathetic, he made his way unsteadily across the room and slid open the door.

The pup crouched, wagged its tail once and looked up at the big man as if asking if this were real. "Come on in, buddy," Jack said softly. Immediately the dog's tail took on the action of a crazed windmill, and still crouching, its belly nearly dragging the floor, inched forward into the blessed heat of the kitchen. Jack pushed the door shut, and he started to bend over to pet the animal, but a stab of pain in his head convinced him that was a bad idea. Instead, he pulled over a kitchen chair and sat down, patting his knee to invite the dog to stand up. The dog obeyed, its tail still creating a breeze that Jack could feel all the way up to his face, and placed its head on Jack's knee, scooching its nose under the hand that rested there. Jack's fingers began to scratch behind the pup's ears, and an almost human sigh escaped the animal as its eyes closed and an expression of pure bliss washed over its face.

"Oh, for cryin' out loud," Jack muttered, feeling the dog lean its weight against his leg in utter and complete trust. "Just what I need. So have you got a collar or tags?" It only took a moment's investigation to determine that the dog had neither. It was skinny, too, Jack realized, running his hand down along its side and feeling the ripple of ribs under his fingers. "Okay. What've I got in the house that'd make healthy dog food? Move off a sec and let me get up." He pushed gently on the animal's side, but there was no responding withdrawal, instead the dog's weight seemed to increase against his leg as it tried to edge closer. "Now that ain't gonna work, buddy. If I can't move, you don't eat."

'Yip!'the dog answered, and moved even closer.

Jack chuckled. "Yeah. Well not only do I need to get up to get you some food, I also need to get coffee for myself—and that's a _real_ emergency, let me tell ya." In addition, the snow that the dog had brought in was melting onto the floor and Jack's sox were getting wet.

'Yip. Yip.' The dog opened its eyes and regarded its new human for a moment before straightening, shaking its head once and backing away almost a full inch. Once more the eyes slid upward to meet Jack's as if to say, _'Is that far enough?'_

Jack figured that was all he was going to get, so he quickly slid his leg over and stood up, reaching to catch his balance on the table as his newly acquired friend followed his movement.

Jack stopped. "_Stay!" _he ordered in his Colonel-voice.

The dog blinked. Jack took a step away from the chair. The dog didn't move, but a tiny whine escaped its throat. Jack looked down sternly and the dog met his eyes, cocking first one eyebrow and then the other, and then abruptly rolling over on its back to expose its belly.

"Okay. So you're not buddy—you're bud-ette," Jack said, seeing the evidence that this was a girl. "Now who would turn a pretty lady like you out on a night like last night?"

Another enthusiastic tail-wag was the reply, the action causing the dog's body to wiggle comically from side to side.

"You just relax now," Jack said. "I'll see what I can find for you to eat."

He poured coffee for himself before checking the fridge. The coffee was super-strong, since the cycle was only about half done, but he gulped it down, tossing three aspirin into his mouth along with it. Then he stepped over and opened the refrigerator door. His eyes roamed over the contents. Left-over pizza—what, three days old? He didn't plan to eat it, and certainly wouldn't serve it to a guest! Several bottles of Guinness. That didn't even look good to _him_ right now. Cheese. Did dogs eat cheese?

In the door shelf he found a package of hot dogs. That should work. He opened the pack and cut up four of them into bite sized pieces and put them in a bowl; he added three slices of bread torn into pieces and poured in some milk. He put the bowl in the microwave for thirty seconds, testing the temperature when he took it out. Good—warm, but not too hot.

He spread a newspaper on the floor beside the fridge, and set the bowl down on it. "Okay, girl. Hope this appeals to you." He sat down at the table with his second cup of coffee.

The dog got up from where she'd been lying and came over. She sniffed the bowl carefully, and then looked up at Jack.

"Go ahead," he said. "It's all yours."

She ate quickly, but with surprisingly good manners, licking the last of the milk from the bowl with a long pink tongue. When she was satisfied that she'd gotten every drop she came over and sat down beside Jack's chair.

"You belong to somebody," Jack said, rubbing the dog's head gently. "You're too well-behaved to be a stray—even if you are skinny. I'll bet they're missing you." He rubbed a hand across his face, pressing his fingers against his still aching temples. "Later, we'll go for a walk and try to find your home."

The dog chuffed once, and rubbed her head against Jack's knee, then went over and lay down on the newspaper and closed her eyes. Within moments he was sure she was fast asleep.

"Make yourself at home," Jack murmured with a wry grin. "Mi casa es tu casa."

He finished his cup of coffee and poured a third, then went to the pantry and took down a box of Froot Loops, got a bowl and filled it with the cereal and the last of the milk. He'd have to call for a grocery delivery this afternoon. He took the bowl and coffee into the living area and sat on the couch. Grabbing the TV remote, he clicked on the set, and tuned it to the weather channel, turning the sound down low, then sat back to eat.

In the kitchen, the dog raised her head and glanced around. Her ears perked up and she listened. Getting to her feet, she headed for the couch, jumped up beside Jack and lay down again. Jack looked at her and she raised her eyebrows at him, then settled in closer, closed her eyes and went back to sleep. Jack ate his cereal.

Their walk around the neighborhood later that morning produced no results. The dog stayed at Jack's heel, and did not show any signs that they passed anything familiar to her. He didn't actually want to meet any of his neighbors, but decided it was only fair to make the effort to get the dog back to her rightful owner. After all, there may be children who were missing her.

He supposed he should actually knock on doors and ask if anyone recognized the dog, but he couldn't bring himself to do it, reasoning that she would have reacted if they passed a house she knew.

After circling around several blocks with no sign from the pooch, they headed back in the direction of Jack's house. The dog's pace picked up as they drew nearer home.

Inside, Jack breathed a sigh of relief and settled down on the sofa where the pup joined him, laying her head on his leg. He stroked her back and scratched her ears.

"Well, what am I gonna call you?" he asked her after a while. "How about Spot?"

She raised one eyebrow and regarded him balefully, _'Seriously?'_

"Okay, okay. Not very original, I know. How about Lady?"

The dog yawned. _'Bor-ing.' _

"Princess?"

She shook her head and closed her eyes. _'I'll take a nap now. Wake me if you have a __good__ suggestion.'_

"Rosie? Sadie? Lucy?"

Her eyes remained closed. With Lucy, she chuffed a laugh.

"Was that a yes or a no?"

She shook her head again without opening her eyes.

"I'll take that as no." He sat in silence for a while, his hand idly stroking the dog's head.

"Bonnie!" he said suddenly.

She raised her head and looked at him.

"What do you think?" he asked, taking her face between his hands. "It means pretty, and you sure are pretty. Bonnie."

'Yip!' Her tail whipped back and forth, and she got up and started to lick his face. _'Now you're talkin', big guy!'_

"Okay," he said, laughing. "Bonnie it is!" He fended her off, and they tussled for a few minutes on the sofa until Jack fell off and landed with a plop on his bottom. "Ow!"

Bonnie lay down and looked at him over the edge of the cushion, her tongue hanging out, laughing. _'You look really silly down there, Jack.'_

"Watch it," he warned as he climbed to his feet and tried to reclaim his seat. Suddenly Bonnie was stretched out full-length on the sofa, taking up nearly the whole thing. She looked up at him with a very doggy smirk. _'So now what are you gonna do?'_

"Oh, watch me!" He picked her up bodily and moved her out of the way, plunking himself back down in his place.

They stared at each other for several moments. Finally Bonnie looked away and yawned, then moved over to rest her head on his thigh once again.

After a time he stretched his legs out and rested them on the coffee table, and laid his head back against the sofa cushion. He felt more comfortable and relaxed than he had in a long while. He closed his eyes and within a few minutes he fell fast asleep.

**~X~X~X~X~**

**This was for ebineez01... Hope this brought at least one smile! **


	3. Chapter 3

THANKSGIVING TURKEY

Jack stared at the frozen turkey that had arrived with his latest grocery order. According to the label, it weighed twenty-six pounds. He frowned. What the hell was he going to do with a twenty-six pound turkey? It must have been delivered by mistake.

He picked up the phone and dialed the supermarket where he purchased his foodstuffs.

A young woman answered in a chipper voice. "Good afternoon! Thank you for calling Super-Mart-Plus! This is Tammy! How may I help you?"

"This is Jack O'Neill at 2114 Brenton Circle . There's a mistake in the order that you delivered to me today."

"I'm very sorry, sir! How can we correct that?"

"You included a rather large turkey—and I didn't order one. I think maybe it got confused with someone else's order."

"Oh, no, sir! That was not a mistake! The turkey is a gift from Super-Mart-Plus to all of our best customers! And you are most certainly on that list, Mr. McNeill! It's our way of saying thank you for your loyalty to Super-Mart-Plus! We hope you enjoy your holiday dinner!"

"I see. Well... that's a really nice gesture... uh, Tammy... bu..."

"You are most welcome, Mr. McNeill! Super-Mart-Plus appreciates your continued business, and wishes you a very happy Thanksgiving!"

The distinct click on the line told Jack that the call was terminated. "The name's _O_'Neill," he muttered to the silent phone before hanging up.

At his feet, Bonnie tilted her head questioningly to one side.

"Well, what am I gonna do with it?" he asked. "It won't fit in my freezer, for cryin' out loud! I'd have to take everything else out!"

Bonnie yawned.

"Not helping!" Jack looked around the kitchen as if he thought the solution would be found there. "I don't even know anybody I can give it to," he muttered, taking a beer out of the fridge. His eyes fell on the newspaper lying on the table. He set the beer down unopened and spread out the paper. "Where did I see that..."

He found what he wanted on one of the back pages, a small notice for St. Michael's Church Dinner Hall, Thanksgiving Dinner. At the bottom were the words 'donations gratefully accepted.' The address was not far from his neighborhood.

"Come on, Bonnie. We're going for a drive." He put on his coat, grabbed the turkey and his keys, and headed for the door, the dog at his heels.

Fifteen minutes later Jack parked his truck in the lot outside the community building next door to St. Michael's. A sign outside announced that the Church's Dinner Hall served free breakfast and dinner daily, and all were welcome. The hours were listed. A separate sign stated that, as well as the usual breakfast, Thanksgiving Dinner would be served on Thanksgiving Day, beginning at noon and continuing until 7:00 p.m.

Jack got out of the truck and reached in for the bird. Bonnie jumped down and stood patiently at his side. "Stay with me," he said to her.

The main entrance opened into a very large room, which was a hive of activity. Jack halted and looked around. An exercise class of some kind was in progress in one section of the room. A dozen or more tables were set up in another area, near the back wall, and several people were busy spreading tablecloths and setting out various items like salt and pepper shakers. Jack realized that the hour for the evening meal was approaching. This must be the dinner hall. Soon there would be dozens more people here!

He found himself frozen in place, just inside the door. So many people around. Too many. He couldn't make himself take another step into the room. At his side, Bonnie gave a whimpering sigh, and pressed her body against his leg. Jack was on the verge of turning around and leaving when a young man dressed in jeans and sweatshirt approached him with a smile. "Hi. I'm Kevin. Can I help you?"

Jack swallowed. "Uh... I'm Jack. I've got this turkey I don't need. The paper said you take donations for Thanksgiving dinner..."

Kevin's smile widened. "Oh, you'll want to see Sister Elizabeth Francis. Come on. I think I know where she is."

He turned and started off, and for a moment Jack simply stared after him. Then Bonnie chuffed, and took a step forward, twisting around to look up at Jack questioningly. "Right," Jack murmured, and followed Kevin across the room and down a corridor to the entrance of a large kitchen. A number of people were working inside and the room was filled with enticing smells.

"Wait here a sec," Kevin said. He headed into the bustling room, toward a tall middle-aged woman in the contemporary street-length uniform and short veil of a Sister. She turned to listen to him, and then glanced toward the door, smiling. A moment later she was walking in Jack's direction with Kevin in her wake.

"Hello," she said. "I'm Sister Elizabeth Francis. Kevin said you want to see me?"

"Yes, ma'am," Jack replied. "I've got this turkey, and..." He sort of nudged the bird forward—not that she could have missed it! "...uh, well, I don't have any use for it. It won't even fit in my freezer. I thought you might use it for the Thanksgiving dinner."

Her eyes sparkled. "Why, thank you! Mr...?"

"I'm Jack. Jack O'Neill."

"This is very generous of you, Jack."

"No..." he protested. "Not really. The market where I shop gave it to me—apparently it's a gift for their good customers. I didn't know what to do with it. It's just Bonnie and me, and we'll probably order pizza for Thanksgiving." He waved a hand to the dog, who stood up at the sound of her name. "Stay, girl," he added quietly.

Sister Elizabeth looked down. "This is Bonnie?"

Before Jack could reply, the dog gave a soft, polite bark.

The Sister grinned and held her hand down for Bonnie to sniff, and then stroked the dog's head. "Well, then, you and Bonnie must plan to join us here for Thanksgiving Dinner, Jack."

Another woman joined them just then. She was in her mid-thirties, with short, curly hair which was a dark chestnut color, and was dressed in jeans and a man's plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled to her elbows.

"Abby," Sister Elizabeth said. "Mr. O'Neill has brought us a donation for Thanksgiving Dinner."

Abby looked up at him with bright green eyes and a wide grin. "Thank you! That's really great!" She stuck out her hand. "Hi! I'm Abby Sheldon."

"Jack O'Neill." He shook her hand, found the grip firm and warm. "And you're very welcome. Where shall I put Big Bird, here?"

She turned to Kevin, who was standing in the kitchen door. "Kev, can you take the turkey to the freezers, please? Put it in the big one, wherever you can find room."

"Sure, Doc." The young man relieved Jack of the bird, and headed off to do as he was instructed.

Jack took out his wallet. "Look, is there anything else you need?" He extracted a couple of fifty dollar bills and held them out to Sister Elizabeth.

She accepted the money graciously. "Thank you very much, Jack. This is incredibly kind of you."

Abby had knelt down and was petting Bonnie. "What a pretty girl you are!" She looked up at Jack. "What's her name?"

"It's Bonnie," he said.

"Hello, Bonnie! What a great name!" The dog's tail wagged happily and she licked Abby's hand. "You're a sweetie! Where did you get her?" Abby asked Jack.

"She appeared on my back porch one morning. She adopted me, I guess."

"She's so well-behaved!"

"I can't take credit for that," Jack said. "I've only had her for a couple of weeks."

Abby gave the dog one last caress and then stood. "I have to get going, Sister," she said to Sister Elizabeth. "I'm due at the clinic in half an hour. I'm taking Wednesday off to help with prep for Thanksgiving Dinner. What time would you like me here?"

"We'll be starting early," Sister Elizabeth said. "Probably by seven. But anytime you want to come is fine."

After some more words of thanks from Sister Elizabeth, and a warm repeat of her invitation to join them for Thanksgiving dinner, Jack found himself walking away with Abby.

"Kevin called you Doc?" he said.

"I'm a veterinarian, actually. My clinic is over on Cottonwood."

They emerged from the kitchen corridor into the main room, and Jack paused. People were coming in through the front door; some were alone, some in small groups. They were making their way to the back of the room, near where the tables were set up. Jack saw that a section of the wall between the main room and the kitchen had been opened, and was now set up with a serving counter. Food was being brought and placed in warming pans, as the workers prepared to serve dinner. Those entering were lining up quietly to wait for the signal that everything was ready. There were probably thirty or so there by now, and more coming through the door.

Jack's gaze traveled over the row of people. Most were men, but there were several women, and some of them had children with them. Jack sucked in a breath as he looked at the children. Except for the two or three infants, every child stood quietly, usually with one hand in that of a woman, or holding onto a coat sleeve.

"Who are they?" he asked Abby, who had stopped beside him.

"Homeless, mostly," she replied. "Or just too poor to be able to afford enough food. The woman with the three kids..." She indicated a small redhead, dressed in an old wool coat, her arms around the three small boys—all younger than school age—who crowded close to her sides. "Her name's Peggy. The boys are Mike, Jimmy and Charlie..."

Jack lost the rest of what she was saying, as he struggled with the name echoing through his senses. He raised a fist to his mouth. Beside him, Bonnie whined, and looked up at him. She stood up on her back feet and placed her paws on Jack's waist, laying her head against his hip.

Abby fell silent as she noticed the dog's action, and looked up at Jack. His face had gone pale, and his eyes were dark with emotion.

"Jack?" she asked. "Are you okay?"

For a moment he did not react. Then Bonnie barked softly and Jack swallowed and closed his eyes briefly. His color began to return. "Yeah. Sorry. I'm fine." He looked at Abby. "You were saying..."

She studied him for a moment, and then continued quietly. "Peggy's husband left them, and she lost her job because she didn't have anyone to watch the kids. The church has been helping her pay the rent on their little apartment, but she doesn't have much left over. They're here three nights a week. The man just behind them is Cal. He was a teacher. He was accused of molesting a child. He lost his job and his family and went to prison. Later the accusations were proved false. He was released, but he never recovered. Now he lives on the street."

Jack had turned to look at her as she was speaking. "Do you know all of their stories?"

"Quite a few of them," she said, nodding. "I've been volunteering here for severak years."

The line had started to move past the serving window, and more people had come in, so that the line now extended around the room and almost to the front door.

"There are lots of kids," Jack observed.

"That's the worst part," Abby said.

They walked across to the doors and out into the parking lot. Jack breathed a sigh of relief, glad to be out in the open air.

"Are sure you're okay?" Abby asked, noting his expression.

"I'm... just not good with crowds, you know..." He cleared his throat. "Bonnie and I—we don't see too many people." He mentally shook himself.

Abby took out her phone. "I need to call a cab."

"Look... uh... Cottonwood's not far from my house. I can give you a ride."

"That's very kind, but I don't want to put you to any trouble."

"It's no trouble. Besides I've been meaning to find a doc for Bonnie."

"Oh? Is something wrong?" she asked, giving the dog a concerned look.

"No. That is, I don't think so. She didn't have tags when she came to me, and I haven't seen any lost dog notices. I posted some flyers, but nobody responded. No one in the area seems to know her. I thought I should have her checked out."

"Of course. That's a good idea. She looks very healthy, but I'll be glad to look at her. I'll take that lift, then. And you can bring her right in."

They crossed the parking lot to Jack's truck. He held the passenger door for Abby and waved Bonnie into the back seat, then went around and climbed in behind the wheel.

"Which end of Cottonwood are we headed for?" he asked.

"The north end. Number's 67541."

"Way on the north end," he commented. "He turned the key and the engine roared to life. "That's not too far from my neighborhood."

"Oh?"

"I'm in Cheyenne Hills, near the golf course."

"Oh really?" she smiled. "I live in Cheyenne Hills, too. On Underhill, just off the Canyon Road."

"I'm on Brenton, on the west side." He glanced over at her and smiled.

At the veterinary clinic she checked Bonnie over and pronounced her very healthy. Since Jack had no idea whether the dog had her shots, Abby gave them to her. Then she walked Jack out to the reception desk where he paid the bill, and made a follow-up appointment for Bonnie.

They stood in the empty waiting room and talked for a little while, until Jack began to fidget. He was more comfortable with Abby than he's been with anyone for a while, but after a time he started to feel self-conscious. When he moved to go outside, Abby walked with him to his truck. Bonnie rubbed against Abby's legs again, and she knelt down to hug the dog.

"She is such a sweetie," she said. "I can tell you're taking good care of her."

"She's special," he said, surprising himself.

"Yes, she is," Abby agreed. She saw him smile, and cocked her head. "What?"

"It's just that she's so special," he admitted. "She showed up... well, just when I needed her..." He turned away to hide the heat that rose to his cheeks. "Come on, Bonnie. Time to go home."

He didn't see the gently curious look Abby sent his way.

She gave the dog one last pat, and then smiled at Jack.

He stammered a little. "Well, I'll... uh... see you again sometime."

"Yes," she said, grinning. "In two weeks when you bring her back for her second set of vaccinations."

"Oh, yeah. Right." Jack waved Bonnie into the truck and got in the driver's seat. "I've got a question," he added before he shut the door.

"Yes?"

"If I wanted to make another donation... to the dinner program. Money, not food. Would I still talk to Sister Elizabeth?"

"You could," she said. "Or Father Murphy. He's the person in charge of the program."

"Okay. Thanks," Jack said. "Bye." He closed the door.

Abby waved once and headed back into the building.

As he drove slowly home, Jack was thinking of the children he had seen waiting for their dinner in St. Michael's hall.

The next day he called St. Michael's and asked for Father Murphy. After talking to the Father for a while, Jack sent him a check to help with the dinner program.

**XXXXXXXXXXX**


	4. Chapter 4

DECEMBER: AMONG THE STARS

The night sky over Colorado was clear and crisp and cold as November drew to an end. Jack spent hours on his roof deck every evening, his eye glued to the telescope. Bonnie always came out with him and sat close beside his chair. He brought a blanket with them and laid it on the floor, covering her when she lay down at his feet.

He talked to her, telling her what he was doing as he searched for the star that might be Abydos' sun. He explained to her why he was searching.

"I left Daniel there. At first it felt as if I was leaving him behind. But he wanted to stay. He'd found Sha're, and they got married. She couldn't come back with us to Earth—she'd never have left her people anyway. And he didn't have anyone to come back to. So he stayed with her.

"Daniel was happy. Maybe for the first time since he was a kid. He found a family at last. His parents died when he was eight." Jack stopped talking for a minute. _Strange, it had not occurred to him before..._ "Daniel lost his parents when he was eight, and Charlie was eight when I lost _him_."

He sighed and rubbed Bonnie's head. "On Abydos we met Kasuf, Sha're's father... and Skaara, her brother. Skaara... he was kind of special. Giving me that salute..." He chuckled. "It was silly, but he was so serious about it."

He was quiet for a while. "Charlie used to do that when I'd come home from a mission. He'd stand at attention and snap off a real sharp salute, and then he'd run and jump into my arms..." His voice thickened as the memory engulfed him, and he trailed off, blinking back tears.

Bonnie made a low hum deep in her chest and moved closer to Jack, tucking her body comfortingly against his legs. He was quiet for a time, stroking the dog's head.

"That's Draco, the Dragon," Jack continued after a while, tracing a twisting trail of stars in the northern sky. "He's easy to find. See how his tail curves around the Little Bear. There's his head—those four stars that form an irregular quadrangle there." He followed the shape of the constellation with his hand. Bonnie chuffed her understanding. "Here in the northern hemisphere, he's in the sky all year around." On the dragon's head, he pointed out a bright star. "That's Etamin, the brightest star in the constellation. I believe Abydos' sun is located somewhere in Draco. I think that's where I'll find them..."

Clouds began to move in and it started to snow shortly afterward. Soon Jack picked up the blankets and they went inside.

He dreamed of Charlie that night—dreamed that he was up there among the stars; "It's so bright and beautiful up here, Dad!"

Jack tried to reach him, but the boy was too far away.

"Charlie!" He jerked awake and sat up with a cry, sobbing as he tried to catch his breath. When he could finally breathe, he lay down again, curling his body in on itself and crying softly, while Bonnie snuggled close, fitting herself warmly against his back.

**~x~**

Sunlight streamed across his bed, shining in his eyes. He rolled away, covering his head with the blanket.

The next time he woke, the sun had moved away from the window. It was afternoon. No matter, he thought. He felt hot and feverish, and too lethargic to care. He had nothing to get up for. Bonnie howled from the kitchen. He ignored her and slept.

It was dark again when the dog became desperate enough to come into the bedroom and bark sharply at him. He covered his ears and snapped at her. She quieted for a moment, and then he felt her jump up on the bed. She growled and grabbed the blanket in her teeth, yanking it off him.

"Stop that!" he croaked, taking it back.

She raised both brows at him and snarled. _'Okay! I'll fix you!' _ She squatted in the center of the bed, glaring at him.

He sprang upright. "What the hell do you think you're doing!"

One corner of her lip rose evilly. _'What do you expect me to do? My eyeballs are floating here!'_

"Oh, crap!" Jack slapped a hand to his head, realizing what was wrong. He got out of the bed fast. "I'm sorry, girl! Come on. Can you make it to the door?"

She jumped to the floor. _'Don't drag your feet, Jack!'_

Bonnie tore out the back door the instant he had it open enough to let her get through. Not even pausing to take the steps, she jumped straight to the ground and squatted in the snow just off the path. He could hear her low howl of relief.

Jack watched her until she stood, shook herself and vanished into the dark yard. He turned back into the kitchen mentally kicking himself for his selfishness. Yeah, he was coming down with a cold or something, but that was no excuse. He'd been thinking of nothing but his own pain and grief—wallowing in self-pity.

Bonnie depended on him, and he'd ignored her all day—not giving her food or water, or letting her outside. He looked and, sure enough, both her food and water bowls were empty. Remorsefully, he filled both bowls and set them carefully on the floor. Then he went back to the door, flipping on the outside light. Bonnie was nowhere in sight.

"She's been inside all night and all day," he muttered to himself. "She needs to run around a little." But he stood by the door for the next twenty minutes or more, shivering occasionally from the cold, watching for a glimpse of the dog. When he found himself feeling weak and a little dizzy, he realized he also hadn't eaten or drunk anything in the same length. He got a glass of water, then pulled a chair over beside the glass and continued to watch.

Finally she reappeared, trotting up onto the deck. By the amount of snow covering her, he knew she must have been rolling in it. Getting to his feet, he opened the door. "Come on in, girl."

She looked up at him, and then shook herself vigorously, ridding her coat of most of the snow. She came in and crossed the kitchen straight to her food bowl. He sat down in one of the kitchen chairs and watched her eat every morsel of food, as neatly as ever. Then she drank half the water in the bowl. At last she gave a satisfied sound and turned and trotted over to sit beside him, laying her head on Jack's knee.

Moisture welled in his eyes as he put his hand on her head and rubbed gently behind her ears. Silently he swore that nothing like this would ever happen again as long as she stayed with him. "God. I don't deserve you..." he murmured softly.

She looked up at him with a sarcastic smirk. _'No kidding!'_

"Are you okay?" he asked, taking her face between his hands and looking at her closely. She yawned and chuffed at him. Her eyes were clear and she seemed fine. Still he was worried. He got the phone book and looked up the number for the veterinary clinic. It was after seven and he was sure they were closed, but he tried anyway.

Bonnie watched him for a minute, then rose, crossed to the couch, jumped up and lay down.

Sure enough, he got a recording. "You've reached Cottonwood Veterinary Clinic. We're closed at the moment. If this is an emergency, you can reach Dr. Sheldon at this number." He wrote down the number, and dialed.

She answered after two rings. "This is Dr. Sheldon."

"Abby. This is Jack O'Neill. I have Bonnie..."

"Oh, yes. Hi, Jack. Is something wrong?"

He tried to explain. "I didn't feel well today... never got up. And Bonnie, well... she was inside for about twenty-four hours without... you know... er..." He stalled.

"Without relieving herself?" Abby said matter-of-factly.

"Yeah. She tried to get me up, but I just yelled at her. Finally she jumped up on the bed and threatened to... uh..."

He heard a choking sound on the other end of the phone—then nothing as if the microphone had been covered. After a few beats, Abby came back, sounding amused. "So you got up and let her out, I assume."

"Yeah."

"And how's she behaving now?"

He couldn't stop himself; "Relieved?"

This time she didn't muffled her laugh. "Otherwise, okay?"

"Yes. Do you think she's all right?"

"I think she is, Jack. Just watch her for the next day or so. Bring her in if she seems off or ill. Especially if she passes any blood. But I don't think you have to worry. She very healthy."

He sighed. "Thanks, Abby. I'm sorry to bother you at home."

"Anytime. That's why the number's on the machine." She paused a moment, then asked, "She, uh, she really threatened to pee on your bed?"

"Oh, yes. Squatted right in the middle. I'm probably lucky she didn't follow through."

She laughed again. "I'd say so. Goodnight, Jack."

"Thanks again, Abby. Goodnight."

He hung up and glanced over to where Bonnie was stretched out on the couch, sound asleep. Suppressing a sneeze, he grabbed the bottle of cold medicine and took two pills, then rooted around in the fridge, looking for something to eat.

**~X~X~X~X~**


	5. Chapter 5

DECEMBER: ABBY

~part I~

A little over two weeks after his visit to St. Michaels, Jack brought Bonnie back to the Cottonwood Vet Clinic for her next round of vaccinations. It was early December, and the snow on the ground seemed to be there to stay.

In those two weeks Jack had found himself thinking about Abby Sheldon surprisingly often. At first he tried to dismiss the thoughts. He was less than three months divorced, for crying out loud! Shouldn't he still be missing Sara? Or maybe that was it—he _did_ miss Sara. He also missed having someone to talk to (Bonnie notwithstanding!), and just to spend time with.

Abby reminded him of Sara somehow. Not that they looked alike, or were even the same type. Sara was a tall, slender, blue-eyed blond. Abby was several inches shorter, not more than five-five, with a definitely curvier shape; her hair was deep brown with reddish highlights, and her eyes were green. No, it wasn't Abby's looks that made him think of Sara—it was her dedication to her veterinary practice, and the sympathy and concern he'd seen in her for the people who came to St. Michaels. Sara had that same dedication to her career as a nurse and concern for all of her patients.

In the brief time he'd spent with her, he found Abby easy to talk to and very comfortable to be around. He'd started to think he would enjoy spending more time with her, and getting to know her better.

When he parked in front of the Clinic, he noticed a sign that he'd missed on the first visit; Dr. Victor Corelli, DVM, Dr. Abigail Sheldon, DVM. So she shared her practice with another vet.

He and Bonnie waited for perhaps ten minutes until Abby came out and greeted them with a smile. They followed her back into the examining room.

Without being asked, Bonnie jumped up onto the exam table.

"I take it there were no after-effects from the, uh, little incident you called me about last week," Abby said to Jack as she checked Bonnie over and prepared to give her the shots.

"No. Nothing," he replied. "She's acted perfectly normal ever since."

"Good." She rubbed Bonnie's head affectionately. "And how about you? Have you been okay?"

Jack didn't know what she meant until she looked at him pointedly. "Do you mean me? Sure. Why?"

"When you called you said you weren't feeling well that day," she reminded him.

"Oh. Yeah. I caught a little cold. It's gone now."

"Glad to hear it. We missed you at Thanksgiving dinner,"

He gave an awkward laugh. "Bonnie and I had Chinese at home."

"Just the two of you?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"You don't have any family around here?"

Jack shook his head.

Bonnie sat quietly as Abby administered the injections.

"She's such a good girl," Abby commented.

Jack grinned. "She's great. Always."

"Okay, we're done," Abby said. "You've got her licensed, right?"

"Yeah. I went down to city hall and took care of that yesterday," he said. "I need to get a collar for her, so I can put the tag on."

"I need the tag number for our records."

"Oh. Can I call it in? I don't have it with me."

"Sure," she said.

"When do I have to bring her back?"

"Not for six months. And then it's only a check-up—not any more shots. We'll repeat rabies in a year, but after that it's only every three years." She took off her gloves and went to the sink to wash her hands. "I'll give you a rabies tag for this year to put on her collar." She opened a drawer beside the sink.

Jack watched her sorting through the items in the drawer. He was tense, thinking of what he wanted to ask.

When he had arrived at the clinic, there were no other patients waiting, so after two or three false starts, he'd asked the receptionist, Teri, some questions about Abby. She had grinned when she answered him. She'd seen how the doctor seemed interested in this man when he was in a couple of weeks ago. No, Dr. Sheldon wasn't married, and as far as Teri knew, she wasn't seeing anyone special. Apparently Abby spent most of her free time at St. Michael's.

Jack cleared his throat nervously, as Abby turned back to face him, the tag in her hand. "Here's the rabies tag," she said. "Just attach it with the license."

"Thanks." He took the small piece of metal. "Um... Abby... I was wondering..." His voice hoarsened and he stopped.

"Jack? Something else?"

He cleared his throat again. "...I thought sometime... would you want... er... that is... maybe you and I..." His voice failed.

She smiled. "Jack, are you trying to ask me out?" she asked gently.

He blushed and nodded. "Y... yeah. Sorry... uh..."

Abby nearly laughed at the idea of this big, rugged, handsome man being nervous about asking her for a date. It was endearing. But she held her amusement in check, because that would only embarrass him further. "Don't be sorry. I think I'd like that."

"Huh? I mean... you would?" His color deepened.

"Yeah," she said. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well..." He actually hadn't thought ahead, not really expecting the conversation to happen—much less get this far. "Maybe we could... um, have dinner? There's this place over by Holyoke Reservoir. O'Malley's? The food's good."

"I've been to O'Malley's a few times. You're right—the food is good. That would be nice."

"Is tomorrow night too soon?" he asked. Tomorrow was Friday. "Or it could be Saturday if you'd rather?"

"I'm scheduled to work at St. Michael's Saturday night," she said. "So tomorrow is better. We should make reservations. O'Malley's is really popular with the Air Force crowd on the weekends."

"Yes, I know. That's how I found it." He saw her puzzled look. "I'm retired now, but I was in the Air Force until about three months ago."

"Oh, I see."

He thought he caught a troubled note in her voice. "Is that a problem?"

"What?"

"That I was in the Air Force."

"No! No, of course not." She grinned wryly. "I was just surprised. You don't seem like... you know... the military type."

"I don't?" It was his turn to be surprised. He'd always been told that was exactly his type.

"But, then I really don't know you very well."

"Well, I think I'd like to change that," he said seriously.

She met his eyes and nodded. "Yeah. Me, too."

Abby walked with him out to the entrance. There was more snow falling. She gave him her address.

"I'll make a reservation for eight," Jack said. "And I'll pick you up at seven-thirty."

"Sounds good." She waved as he and Bonnie climbed into the truck, then quickly shut the door against the cold.

Teri grinned at her as she turned back toward the exam rooms. "Big date, Doctor?"

Abby smiled. "I hope so."

~x~


	6. Chapter 6

**Many thanks to TamaraJ for reading this and other chapters in advance, and giving me feedback! **

DECEMBER: ABBY

~part II ~

On Friday night, Jack drove along Underhill Road until he reached the address Abby had given him. It was an older neighborhood of large, rambling houses, and this one was no exception. There were two stories, and the house was rather sprawling. It looked as if every light was on inside. Four cars were parked in the driveway, making it rather crowded.

Jack parked at the curb in front of the house and sat there. He was incredibly nervous—God, how many years had it been since he'd been out on a date? He and Sara were married for thirteen years, and were together for three years before that. So at least sixteen years since he'd done the dating thing. Going out to a restaurant was a little nerve-wracking, too. At least Abby was willing to go to O'Malley's, a place that Jack had become very familiar with during the time he was at Cheyenne Mountain. Kawalsky had dragged him there at least a dozen times in the six weeks they spent at the Mountain. _One night Kawalsky had snagged Daniel Jackson to go along with them, and they'd discovered that the linguist had absolutely no tolerance for alcohol. In fact, they had to hurry him out and back to the mountain when he started babbling about coverstones and cartouches and Egypt!_ Jack had been back there a couple of times in the past three months, and he didn't feel uneasy at O'Malley's, like he did in most other public places.

Jack glanced again at the big house. A woman's silhouette passed in front of one of the shaded windows, and he wondered if it was Abby. Did she live here alone? Four cars, and probably a dozen or more rooms inside, made that seem doubtful. The silhouette passed again, in the opposite direction this time, and he drew a deep breath, got out of the truck and glanced down at himself, just to make sure nothing was un-zipped or un–buttoned. They'd agreed on casual, and he was wearing black jeans and a black button-down shirt, black boots and a fleece-lined leather short coat. He walked up to the front door and rang the bell.

The door was opened immediately by a blonde teen-aged girl—dressed in bright red shorts and silver halter top. Jack spared a thought to hope she wasn't planning to go out anywhere dressed like that!

"Oh! Hi!" She greeted him enthusiastically, looking him up and down boldly, and apparently approving of what she saw.

He wasn't sure how he felt about being ogled by a girl less than half his age!

"Hi. I'm Jack. I'm here for Abby?"

"Abby?" She eyed him from under her lashes. "Gee. I'm not sure Abby's available tonight." She flashed him a huge smile, and posed with one arm braced high on the door jamb. "But I am..."

"Kammy! Stop that!" Abby's voice called from another room, and a moment later, Abby herself appeared, laughing. "Hi, Jack. Don't mind Kamren. Come on in. I'll be ready in just a minute." She vanished back where she came from.

Kamren moved aside with a shrug, and Jack stepped into the room—a large, messy, over-furnished living room, that nevertheless managed to be charming and warm.

Kamren waved him in dramatically. "Sit down, Jack. I'm one of Abby's housemates. So how did you and Abby meet, exactly?"

"Er... we met at St. Michael's," he said, finding a seat on an overstuffed sofa amid a pile of magazines—Christian Science Monitors and Yoga Journals.

"Oh? You're a volunteer there, too?" she asked, perching on the arm of a chair across the room.

"I made a donation."

Kamren grinned. "Well, I'll tell you a secret—if you want to get on her good side, volunteer at St. Mike's. It's her pet project."

"Yeah. I figured that out." He grinned. "Are you her kid sister, or something?"

"Kid sister?" She looked offended. "Just how young do you think I am?"

He studied her thoughtfully. "Sixteen?"

"Omigod!" she screamed.

"Sorry," he said, hastily. "Seventeen?"

She looked horrified. "Are you serious? You're yanking my chain, right?"

He smirked. "Yeah, I suppose I am. How old are you?"

"I'm nineteen," she declared. She slid off the chair arm and landed in the seat. "So where are you guys going tonight?"

"O'Malley's."

"I've heard about that place. Never been there, though. The others won't let me. They say I'm too young."

"What others?"

"Abby and the other housemates. Darren and Meggie and Victor. I'm Victor's cousin."

"There are five of you living here?"

"Six actually. Georgie doesn't really care what I do."

"I take it you're the youngest."

She nodded. "It sucks being the baby."

He smiled. "You'll grow up. Don't rush it."

"That's what Georgie says."

"Georgie sounds pretty smart."

She shrugged. "Yeah, I guess."

Abby walked in just then. She was wearing dark gray jeans that fit like a second skin, and a long-sleeved deep green blouse, that reflected the color of her eyes perfectly. On her feet were high-heeled black boots, which increased her height by three inches.

Jack rose to his feet, smiling. "Hi," he said. "You look great."

"Thanks. So do you." She turned to Kamren. "Kammy, are you behaving?"

"Yeah. I've been good." Kamren got up from the chair and went over to give Abby a hug. "You guys have a good time."

"Thanks, honey." Abby hugged the younger girl in return.

Kamren skipped out of the room with a wave. "Bye, Jack!"

"Bye, Kam." He focused his attention on Abby. "Are you ready?"

"Just let me get my coat."

He held her coat for her, and then they stepped out into the cold. Abby shivered, laughing. "Brrr!" And Jack regretted not thinking to leave the truck running with the heat on. He opened the passenger door for her, and then went around and got in behind the wheel. He glanced over at her as he reached to turn the key. In the glow from a streetlight, he could see her smiling at him and he grinned back.

"Warm enough?" he asked, turning up the heat.

"I'm good," she replied.

"So you have five housemates," Jack commented as he pulled the truck away from the curb.

"That's right," she said. "It was a good solution to the housing problem. Victor Corelli owns the house."

The name rang a bell. "That's your partner at the clinic," he said.

"Right," she confirmed. "To help pay his mortgage, he decided to look for people to share the house with him and his fiancée. So far it's worked out fine. We all get along well and Vic can make his payments. My rent's a lot less than a house or even an apartment would be. Everybody wins."

"Kam seems like she might be a handful."

"Oh, you're not kidding about that." She grinned. "She's a good kid at heart, but she's got a lot of growing up to do. Vic's her cousin. Her folks live up in Longmont, and she's taking the pre-nursing program at the University. They can't afford for her to live on campus, and it's too far to commute, so Vic invited her to live in his house. She does very well in her classes—she a good student. But she's very much a teen-ager!"

Jack turned onto Holyoke Road and headed toward the reservoir. A few minutes later he pulled the truck into the parking lot at O'Malley's and he and Abby got out and headed inside. It had started snowing lightly as they drove.

The place was crowded, as usual on Friday night. Jack steered Abby through the throng to the bar. The bartender grinned and greeted Jack by name.

"Evening, Ryan. We've got a dinner reservation for eight o'clock," Jack told him.

"Okay. I'll let Tim know you're here. Meanwhile, what can I get you?"

Jack looked at Abby.

"A glass of pinot grigio," she said.

"And I'll have a Guinness," Jack added.

They sat at the bar, sipping their drinks and talking quietly. He noticed that she had a little pucker between her brows that seemed to grow deeper as they talked, as if she were puzzled about something.

"Something's bothering you, Abby," he said at last. "What is it?"

She looked at him and decided to come right out with it. "You told me you don't like crowds. But you seem fine here. Just wondering, I guess."

"Yeah. Well. I guess I've spent too much time in bars." He raised his eyebrows to show he was joking, then added more seriously, "This is a familiar place. I used to come in here a lot. The owners are friends." He hesitated. "Or maybe... maybe it's because..."

"Go on," she urged.

"Maybe it's because I'm with you," he said seriously. It was true that he felt different when he was with her, but he didn't know how to articulate it. "You make me feel better about myself," he finally managed.

"Oh," she said, smiling. "Thank you. That's a great compliment. You know, you can be very charming, when you want to be."

He blushed scarlet, and raised his beer to his mouth to hide his face. She giggled.

"Hey, Doc," he quipped. "No giggling!"

"Something wrong with giggling?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Little girls giggle."

"I'm a girl. Just not so little anymore."

"I noticed." He smiled and lowered his voice. "You're a woman." He was faintly pleased when that made her blush.

They talked and laughed and nursed their drinks along. After a while Jack excused himself for a few minutes. Abby sipped her wine and listened to the rise and fall of voices around her. She thought about Jack, wondering where this date with him might lead. He was a really nice person, and she enjoyed his company, but she was beginning to think there was much more going on with him than he let others see. She had good instincts about people, and it was rare that she 'miscast' a person in terms of their type, but the revelation that Jack had been career Air Force had surprised her. He seemed quiet and almost timid—if she'd had to guess, she'd have said he was a teacher, perhaps? Not a soldier. She remembered the way he'd looked at the people lining up for dinner at St. Mike's—as if something in him empathized deeply. Maybe something had happened to change him, because she truly had trouble picturing him in a uniform. She began to wonder what sort of event could have changed him like that...

Abruptly she was drawn out of her thoughts when she felt a hand on her arm and someone sat down beside her. Expecting Jack, she was startled when she turned her head to find a strange man sitting there, looking at her with a grin that could only be called a leer. He was about her own age, and handsome, with dark eyes and rugged features, but she certainly did _not _like that look, nor the fact that he was gripping her arm rather possessively.

"Hey, sweetheart," he said, leaning toward her. "What's a pretty thing like you doing drinking all alone?"

"I'm not alone," she said, trying to pull her arm away. His fingers tightened. "My friend will be right back. Please let go of me!"

Instead of backing off, he moved closer, invading her personal space. The alcohol was strong on his breath. "I don't see anybody here. And you look like you could use some company."

She saw that the bartender, with a well-honed sense for trouble, was moving in their direction. Raising her voice she demanded, "Take your hand off me right now!"


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you to all who are reading my story!**

**Again, thanks to Tamara for her comments. And thanks for the line that I've borrowed!**

DECEMBER: ABBY

~part III~

Abby saw the bartender start moving in their direction. "Take your hand off me!" she demanded as the stranger leaned closer, invading her personal space.

"Hey now. Don't be so unfriendly..." the man began—he was cut off as a hand landed hard on his shoulder.

"The lady told you to let her go!" Jack commanded in an ominous tone.

Abby breathed a sigh of relief.

"Look, buddy..." the man began, turning toward Jack, but he went rigid when he saw Jack's face.

"Colonel O'Neill!" he exclaimed, yanking his hand away from Abby. He jumped to his feet and stiffened to attention. "Sir!"

Abby saw the steely look in Jack's eyes as he stared the other man down for several beats. His features were set in a hard, icy mask. She was actually shocked at how dangerous he looked!

Jack remembered the man, although he could not recall a name. He did recall that this man had been on the backup team for the mission to Abydos, and was very unhappy when he wasn't chosen to go through the Stargate. Most likely he was assigned to the unit securing the base under Cheyenne Mountain now that the project had been abandoned.

"Name and rank, airman!" Jack snapped.

"Hanson, sir! Captain Jonas Hanson!"

"You're a disgrace to the Service, Hanson! Apologize to the lady!" Jack's clipped words were icy.

Hanson remained at attention, eyes straight in front of him, not looking anywhere near Abby. "My apologies, ma'am! I was out of line!"

"Who's your commanding officer?" Jack demanded.

"Colonel Joseph Robertson, at Cheyenne Mountain, sir!"

Jack took a threatening step closer to the captain, who flinched, and drew back slightly.

"Stay away from us, Hanson," Jack snarled. "Dismissed!"

Hanson made a quick retreat to a booth across the barroom. Jack watched him go and then turned to Abby, leaning in toward her, one hand on the back of her bar chair, the other resting on the bar in front of her. She felt as if he were surrounding her protectively. All the hardness was gone from his expression, his dark eyes held only concern. His voice was low and anxious. "I'm so sorry, Abby... Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Jack," she said, taking a deep breath. She _was_ fine—just a little unnerved. And she wasn't quite sure if that was because of Captain Hanson's behavior—after all, she'd been hit on by obnoxious strange men before—or if some of it was due to the transformation she'd just witnessed in Jack.

"You're sure? What can I do to make this up to you?" He was clearly distressed by what had happened. "We can leave if you want..."

"No. Really, I'm fine," she said, reassured by his warmth and concern. Her uneasiness faded. "We haven't even had dinner yet." She put her hand on his and smiled a little. "Let's just forget about this."

He studied her face for a moment, and she nodded encouragingly. He appeared to relax visibly, shoulders settling slightly and his expression smoothing out. After a moment, he resumed his seat on the bar chair. However, every few minutes his eyes flicked to the mirror above the bar, in which he could see across the room to where Hanson was sitting.

Shortly the waitress came to tell them their table was ready and they followed her to a secluded corner at the rear of the restaurant. Jack held the chair for Abby and then positioned his own seat so he had a clear view of the restaurant and barroom. Although he looked relaxed now, he was wholly alert. His adrenalin had spiked when he emerged from the men's room and saw Hanson with his hand on Abby's arm, and heard her protest. It had taken all of his willpower not to deck the sleazebag. He still had that edgy undercurrent that felt like electricity running just beneath his skin.

After they had ordered, Jack apologized once again.

"It wasn't your fault," she insisted. "Don't worry about it."

"I shouldn't have left you."

"You were gone less than five minutes, Jack. It would have been fine. The bartender was about to intervene. Let's just forget it."

"If you're sure," he agreed after a moment.

She could see that he was still concerned, and she changed the subject. She kept the conversation casual as they waited for their meals to arrive.

While they were eating, Jack noticed that Hanson was joined by a tall, good-looking blonde woman who kissed him enthusiastically when she came in. Jack's eyes narrowed. _What a jerk! Making a move on a woman while he was waiting for his girlfriend! _ He was also aware of it when the couple left a quarter of an hour later, their arms around each other. He was relieved to see Hanson depart, though he had a brief thought that the blonde had piss-poor taste in boyfriends. After a few minutes, he found he could breathe easier, and was able to turn his full attention to Abby.

The rest of the evening was relaxed and enjoyable. Abby and Jack talked easily. Jack asked most of the questions, and learned a lot about Abby in the conversation. She had grown up in a small town a few miles from Denver, and her family—parents and two of her brothers—still lived there. One of her brothers was her twin. She was the second oldest of five siblings (her twin was fifteen minutes older), and the only girl. At thirty-seven, she was divorced, with no children. Her folks owned a ranch where they bred and raised horses, and ran a bed and breakfast inn. Being a vet had been her ambition ever since she could remember. She liked horseback riding, skiing, and all kinds of water sports. Never watched television, and had no clue who the Simpsons were. Any spare time she had was devoted to St. Michael's, though he was a little surprised to learn that she was not Catholic.

"I moved back to Colorado from Phoenix after my divorce, six years ago. That's when I started volunteering," she told him. "I needed something to do outside of work, to get my mind off the mess I'd made of my life. What I discovered was that there were a lot of people a lot worse off than me. It was eye-opening."

That was also when she had opened the Cottonwood Clinic with her friend and fellow vet, Vic Corelli.

Jack shared with her that he was forty-three and divorced. He was from Minnesota, and had joined the Air Force straight out of high school. He gave her the USAF prepackaged version of his military background. After serving in Vietnam he was recommended for the Academy, and graduated four years later. He'd been a pilot and a flight instructor. All of which was true—but hardly complete. He didn't give any further details about his Air Force service and she didn't ask, although she did comment on the fact that Hanson had called him Colonel, and asked where he'd known him.

"We were both stationed at NORAD," Jack explained. "I didn't work directly with him, but he evidently knows who I am. I was only there a few weeks just before I retired."

Why did Jack retire, she wanted to know. After all, he looked healthy enough.

He'd hoped she wouldn't ask, but he was ready for the question. "I had enough years of service in for full retirement. It seems like it's time to do something different. I've had several job offers." This part was true—some of them were even interesting. "The best one is from a major aeronautics company. As a test pilot."

"A test pilot?" She frowned a little. "You mean like Chuck Yeager?"

He smiled. "Well, hardly anything as dramatic as his life has turned out."

"That's dangerous, isn't it?"

"Not any more than a lot of other jobs." He shrugged it off. "I'm a very good pilot."

She gave him a pointedly curious look, and he sighed. "My divorce was only three months ago," he admitted. "I guess I also need something to take my mind off the past."

They talked for a long time, moving from the table to a small booth in the bar after they'd finished eating. Jack ordered another beer for himself and more wine for her, and they drank slowly as they talked. It was the happiest Jack could remember feeling since... Well, he wouldn't start thinking about that.

Abby watched her dinner companion carefully all evening. She liked Jack a lot. She was a fairly intuitive person, and she had sensed a very deep sadness in him from the first time they met. She could tell that he was deliberately glossing over parts of his story. Whatever it was that caused the sadness, he wasn't yet ready to share. In addition, his explanation for retiring didn't quite ring true. He'd made it sound as if he wanted to start a new career, yet he admitted to being uncomfortable in crowds, and from what he had said, spent nearly all of his time at home.

She was also very curious about the glimpse she had had of his military persona. But at the same time, the drastic change she had seen in him had made her wary, and she was not ready explore the subject. To herself, she admitted that for a moment she had found him frightening.

It was well after eleven when they left O'Malley's. Outside they discovered that the snow had stopped. The sky was clear and studded with stars, despite the ambient light from the city below.

"It's spectacular!" Abby exclaimed, leaning against Jack's truck and putting her head back. "I wish I knew more about the stars. There's Orion." She pointed. "And if I look hard I can find the North Star."

"Over there," he pointed to the north. "Polaris is the tail end of Ursa Minor." He traced the shape. "And over here is Ursa Major. In between them is the tail of Draco, the dragon."

"Wow! You know a lot!"

"I'm just an amateur. I like to look. I've got a telescope set up on my roof, and I'm afraid I pass a lot of time up there."

She grinned. "A telescope on your roof! How great! Maybe you could show me sometime," she ventured.

"Do you want to come over tonight? I know it's late, but it's a perfect night for it," he added almost shyly.

"I'd love to," she said. "I can't stay too long, though. I have to be at the clinic at 8:30."

"Half an hour will get you a good look at the Little Dipper."

She stayed for an enthusiastic hour, and then reluctantly said she should go. He drove her home and walked her to her front door.

"I know you said you're working tomorrow night," he said. "But how about Sunday? Are you free?"

"I work breakfast on Sundays, from seven to eleven, but I'm free the rest of the day."

"Maybe we could have a late lunch and then take Bonnie for a hike?" he suggested. "Or if you'd rather go to a movie..."

"A hike sounds great! As long as the track isn't too steep. I doubt if I'm in as good shape as you are," she teased.

"Can I pick you up at 13:00 hours... er, that's one o'clock. Is that too early?"

"That's fine," she agreed. "I'll see you then."

Leaning down, he kissed her cheek. She laughed and caught his face between her palms, turning so their lips met. The kiss lasted longer than she planned, but when his arms went around her, she didn't object and instead slipped her arms up around his neck.

He was a good kisser, gentle and thorough, although he seemed shy at first, and she could tell he didn't know how far to take it. She parted her lips and invited him in, and he grew a little bolder, exploring gently with his tongue. Half leaning, half sitting on the porch railing, he brought his face almost down to her level, and pulled her in to stand between his legs—she could feel his arousal pressing against her lower belly, but still he was handling her carefully, making sure she knew she could move away at any time. Instead of drawing away, she moved deliberately closer against him, causing him to groan deeply. For a moment his hands clenched on her shoulders, then he sighed and hugged her tight, dropping his face to her shoulder.

At last, he stood up and released her and they moved apart.

"It was a really great evening," she said. "Thank you."

"_You_ made it great, Abby," he said. "I'll see you Sunday?"

She smiled. "Sunday at one."

He waited until she was inside, before returning to his truck.

**~x~**

Abby and Jack went out several times in the next ten days. They hiked with Bonnie, spent evenings stargazing on Jack's roof, visited the Peterson Air and Space Museum, and even took two days to go skiing at a ski area near Denver.

They laughed a lot and enjoyed each other's company a great deal. Jack found himself more and more attracted to her. On the roof deck and in Jack's living room they kissed and touched and snuggled, but didn't take it any further. Twice in those ten days he came very close to asking her to stay with him for the night. Both times he backed off, worried that he was moving too fast and she would be frightened away.

A week before Christmas, Abby received a call from her brother. Their father had had a serious fall, and was in a Denver hospital with a broken leg and badly bruised ribs. Fortunately the break was clean and did not require surgery, but he would be in the hospital for at least a week, and it would be several weeks before the break healed enough to start physical therapy. Abby left Colorado Springs immediately and went straight to the hospital.

She called Jack that evening and explained what had happened. Her mother wanted to stay at the hospital for the first few day, so Abby had decided to remain at the ranch to help her brothers. She said she would stay with her family through the Christmas Holidays, and probably until after New Year's.

Jack sat and stared at the phone for a while after the call ended. Of course he understood why she needed to be with her family. But, in spite of himself, he had begun to count on her presence to help him get through what he knew was going to be a difficult Holiday Season.


	8. Chapter 8

**This is the same piece I posted as a single several months ago under the title Christmas Hockey. It belongs with this group of stories. I've tweaked some of the details to make it fit better into the "Retirement Year" series arc. However, there's no substantial change, so if you read it then you won't miss much if you skip it now.**

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

THE CHRISTMAS HOCKEY GAME

Jack stared around himself at the mass of humanity crowding the giant Mall. The chatter of thousands of voices and the clatter of footsteps on the tile floor was deafening, and even above that was the sound of Christmas music being played over the speaker system.

He cringed. Why on earth had he come here? He looked around in confusion. In the three months since the mission through the Stargate to Abydos, and his subsequent retirement, he'd spent most of his time at home—seldom seeing or talking to anyone except the delivery services. Until a few weeks ago, he'd kept almost completely to himself. Then the dates with Abby had seemed to break that cycle to some degree. However, since Abby left for her parents' ranch he hadn't talked to anyone except Bonnie. If the truth be told, he felt a little bit abandoned, and he was ashamed of himself for that.

In the morning paper, he'd seen a small notice about a special Holiday exhibition hockey game being played this evening between two teams picked from the entire league, which included the Avalanche and the Jets—two of his favorite hockey teams. The league was staging several such games around the Division cities. The game was unadvertised, so when he called, he'd been able to reserve a ticket. The rink was in one of the underground levels of the Mall. The game wasn't scheduled to begin until seven—another two hours—but he figured coming early was a good idea; it would give him time enough to find his way there. Now he wasn't sure even twenty-four hours would have been enough time!

Last year he had been one of this throng himself...rushing through the last days before Christmas, trying to get things done in time, frustrated, but happy—so very happy to be home with his wife and son. His son—

His eyes closed in pain. Charlie...

_He'd bought Charlie a remote controlled race car. In fact, he'd bought two of them—one red, one blue—and father and son had sent the cars zooming around the house, making even Sara laugh—until things got out of hand and a crash had resulted in a broken lamp and a cut on Jack's hand when he tried to catch the flying glass. He could still trace the thin scar... _

_It hadn't really been that serious, though. A couple of butterfly bandages, a broom and dustpan, some groveling and cajoling to the wife and mother (she hated the lamp anyway), and soon the two boys were back in business... The fun was more than worth the pain._

Someone jostled against him and he stiffened, trying to step away, and bumped into another body. There were a thousand people between him and the doors he had entered a mere three minutes earlier! He could feel himself freezing up, and his eyes searched frantically for a way out. Escape was cut off!

_One of the first rules when under attack—find a defensible position, get your back to a wall!_ The nearest wall was off to his left, and he began to work his way in that direction, weaving between rushing shoppers, trying to avoid sharp corners of packages, hoping not to be knocked down and stepped on!

It seemed like an eon before he finally reached the safety of the wall, out of the streams of foot traffic. He sighed with relief, leaning back against the concrete. Closing his eyes, he forced himself to breathe slowly, deeply. At last he began to grow calmer, felt the air moving in and out of his lungs. He tried to shut out the sounds of the crowds around him.

Several minutes passed, and his anxiety ebbed. It was only a crowd of Christmas shoppers! Not a threat, not an enemy. He was okay. He opened his eyes cautiously and watched the people streaming past him. Many were smiling and laughing, talking to their companions. Waving and wishing one another 'Merry Christmas!' Jack felt the stiffness leaving his limbs as he began to relax back against the wall.

A faint sound reached his ears. A whimper. It came from below the bustle and roar of the crowd. He heard it again, and he looked down. A small figure was huddled on the floor near his feet. A child, with knees drawn up and head buried in its arms. Another sob reached Jack's ears.

His own discomfort forgotten, Jack slid down the wall to sit beside the small form. "Hey, kiddo," he said, gently, but loud enough to be heard. "What's the matter?"

The child's head came up, and frightened, tear-filled eyes stared at him. Jack saw a boy, maybe six years old, with dark brown hair and large blue eyes. The boy edged away from him, as more tears poured down the pale cheeks.

He made no move toward the boy, just spoke to him in a soothing tone. "It's okay. Lots of people here, huh? Everybody's in a big hurry. Makes me kinda nervous, too." He paused to see if the kid would respond. There was no answer, but the blue eyes studied him warily. "I came here to see a hockey game," Jack went on conversationally. "Do you know about hockey? Guys on skates, chasin' a puck around on the ice? Kind of silly, but it's fun to watch." He paused again, and waited.

After several moments his patience was rewarded. "Mommy says I can't talk to strangers," the kid said, so soft that the words could barely be heard.

"And your Mommy's right," Jack said, keeping his voice quiet and friendly. "You should always be careful around strangers. So let's get to know each other. My name's Jack O'Neill. I was a colonel in the Air Force."

The boy's head came up a little and he studied Jack for a while. "My Dad's in the Air Force," he murmured at last. "Where's your uniform? My Dad has a uniform."

"Well, I don't wear it now. I retired a few months ago. That means I don't work for the Air Force anymore."

Blue eyes narrowed slightly, as the child thought about that. "What kind of work do you do now?"

"I'm sort of on vacation. Until I find something I want to do."

There was another pause, as the boy considered what Jack had said. After a few moments he seemed to relax a little. "I can skate," he said at last.

Jack smiled broadly. "That's great. Yeah. I love to skate. Not on a rink, tho. I like to go out to a lake or pond, where there aren't so many people." He'd had ambitions of playing professional hockey once, but too many broken bones had scotched that dream. "So... what's your name?"

"Michael," the boy whispered.

"Well, hello, Michael. It's nice to meet you. Have you been sitting here very long?"

The boy shrugged, then nodded, tears threatened again and he whispered, "Can't find my mom and dad."

"Did you come here together?"

Michael nodded again. "They were Christmas shopping."

"What's your last name, Michael?"

"Usher."

"Do you know your dad and mom's names?"

"Steve and Diana."

"Good! That's very good. Would you like me to help you find them?"

Big tears slipped from the boy's eyes again as he nodded vigorously.

With someone else to look after, Jack's anxiety had almost vanished. He reached out and touched Michael's shoulder. "How about we go to the courtesy desk and ask them to page your mom and dad. Does that sound like a good idea?"

Michael nodded. "Yeah." He stretched out his hand toward Jack.

Jack took Michael's hand and stood up slowly, tugging him up at his side. The boy barely came to his belt. "Would you like to ride on my shoulders, Michael? That way you can let me know if you see your parents."

"Okay."

Jack easily lifted Michael up onto his shoulders, and they turned toward the crowded center of the Mall. "Now pay attention," Jack said, as he moved out into the throng. "If you see your mom or dad, let me know."

"Okay, Jack."

They moved slowly through the crowd. Jack was tall enough to see over most of the heads around him, and he kept his eyes busy, looking for a courtesy desk, or some similar sign. It was a while before he spotted what he was looking for; an Information Center. As they approached, a young woman suddenly shrieked and tried to push through the crowd toward them. "Michael!"

"Mommy!" Michael cried, holding out his arms.

Jack grinned, and continued to work his way toward the crying woman. As they met, he reached up and swung the boy down into his mother's arms. A young dark-haired man behind her put his arms around them both and buried his face for a moment into his son's back. When he raised his head, his eyes met Jack's over the heads of his family.

"Thank you!" the man exclaimed, thrusting out his hand.

Jack shook the hand. "Glad to help," he said.

"We were so scared," the woman said, looking up at Jack as she cradled her son against her chest. "We'd separated and I thought he was with Steve..."

"I thought he was with her," the father said. He cleared his throat and blinked away the threat of tears. "I'm Steve Usher. Thank you so much!"

Michael struggled out of his mother's grip and slid to his feet.

"Jack O'Neill," Jack replied. "And it was a pleasure. That's a great kid you've got there. He was very brave." His hand rested for a moment on Michael's head.

"Jack's in the Air Force, too, Daddy!" Michael exclaimed, all of his reticence gone now that he was safe with his parents. "He's a colonel. He's going to a hockey game. He likes to skate. I told him I can skate, too."

"Sir!" Michael's father came to attention. "Lieutenant Steven Usher, sir!"

"Relax, Steve." Jack waved a hand. "I'm retired. No rank here."

"Daddy, can we go to the hockey game?" Michael demanded, ignoring the byplay between his father and Jack.

"Well..." Steve began. "I don't know about that, Mike. We don't have tickets..."

The boy bit his lip in disappointment, and Steve Usher glanced at his wife with a rueful smile. "Di? What do you think?"

Diana held her son's hand tightly and nodded at her husband.

"Well, we could go and see," Steve said to Michael. "Maybe we can get in." He turned to Jack. "Where's the game, sir?"

"It's in the rink on the lower level," he said. "It's a League exhibition game. I guess they're doing several of them around the division. Are you a hockey fan?"

"Yes, sir!" Steve grinned. "I grew up cheering for the Flames!"

"Canadian?" Jack asked.

"My dad was. He moved to Idaho after he married my mom. That's where I was born."

They all went to the game. Steve and Diana were able to get tickets. Jack sat with Michael on his lap. The kid loved it!

One of the teams was wearing Santa costumes and the other side's players were dressed up as Elves. They spun and crashed and did acrobatics on the ice. The spectators were in stitches. Nobody cared who was winning or losing. Ultimately the game was declared a draw, and the players all mingled with the audience, paying special attention to the kids. One of the Elves offered to take Michael out on the ice, and when his parents agreed, he lifted the boy onto his shoulders and skated around the rink. There were quite a few other children enjoying the same kind of attention.

Jack could not help but think how much Charlie would have loved this. That brought on feelings of guilt, but as he watched Michael waving excitedly to his folks from the player's shoulder, he knew that his son would not have begrudged him this experience.

**~X~X~X~X~X~X~**


	9. Chapter 9

NEW YEAR'S DAY: A NEAR MISS

Jack sat on his bed with his Beretta in his hand.

He should never have gone to that damn hockey game! The holiday celebrations, the lights and crowds and Christmas music... it had all been too much! Everything that he had lost had come crashing down on him. In the days since that evening he had been falling deeper and deeper into depression.

The boy, Michael, with his parents—seeing them hurt the most. Their little family was so happy together.

That was him once. With Sara and Charlie. When they were together, they were wonderful, perfect.

But over the years Jack had missed so many holidays...

One year he'd missed Christmas and New Years—he was somewhere in a Central American jungle... Sara had kept the tree and decorations up, and there were presents, and she cooked a great roast beef dinner—but celebrating in the middle of January just wasn't the same. Charlie had opened most of his presents on Christmas Day, so Jack had missed the magic.

Even the good memories tore at his heart. Last year's Thanksgiving, for example. Sara's dad, Mike, was there, along with Sara's sister Kim and her family—husband Brett and son Andy. Andy was a year or so younger than Charlie, but the two boys got along well.

Jack's cousin from California had showed up with only a day's warning. Jack hadn't seen Gus—or Mac, as he liked to be called now—in at least five years. They had a good visit and caught up on each other's lives. It had been unusually warm and Jack and Mac played catch with the boys outside for quite a while in the afternoon, while Sara and her family visited and watched them from the back porch...

Jack closed his eyes, visualizing Charlie tearing happily around the yard, chasing the ball. The bittersweet memory faded into an image of Charlie lying on his bedroom floor, his blood soaking into the carpet...

He covered his eyes with one hand, as a ragged sob tore from his chest. The sound was answered by a whine and whimper from outside his closed bedroom door. Jack barely heard Bonnie's cry at first, so immersed was he in the overwhelming grief that the memory had brought on. His every sense was focused on the dreadful vision which filled his mind, and he cried his despair aloud, as a small child would have cried. The dog's voice rose with his until her howling finally penetrated his awareness.

_Oh, God. Bonnie... He couldn't ignore her again! He had to put her out of the house before he... He didn't care what happened to him—how long it might be before someone found... But he couldn't leave Bonnie in here with... _

He raised his head and drew in a deep breath, trying to control his emotions. It took two tries before he managed to get to his feet, and then he had to steady himself on the bedside table. He laid the pistol on the bed, and moved slowly over to open the door.

Bonnie greeted him joyfully, almost knocking him down as she jumped to put her feet on his legs. He grabbed the door frame with one hand to keep his balance, and let his other hand fall onto her head. She shoved her nose hard into his palm, and he reflexively rubbed her jaw.

"Come on, girl. Let's go outside."

She followed him down the hall to the kitchen, but when he slid the glass door open, she backed away.

"Bonnie. Go on outside!" he ordered, but she shook her head, growled and backed even farther.

Her expressive eyes pleaded with him. _'No. I won't leave you.'_

"Bonnie!" He reached for her collar, but she evaded him, and ran down the hall, toward the bedroom. With a curse, he went after her. "Get back here!"

He saw her go into his bedroom, and he was only halfway there when she ran out again—the Beretta held fast in her teeth! She tore past him, and by the time he got turned around to go after her, she was out the kitchen door and down the steps of the deck. He reached the door in time to see her vanish around the corner of the garage.

Furious, Jack ran down the steps after the dog. He could see her tracks in the snow but shortly they disappeared onto one of the trod paths he had shoveled so that she could go out easily when she needed. He hurried along the side of the house and across to the garage, but when he rounded the corner there was no sign of Bonnie. He circled the garage, but didn't see any fresh tracks where she had left the path. There was no sign of her in the front of the house, so he walked out to the road, looking in both directions. Nothing.

Worry began to replace his anger. _Where had she gone? What if she dropped the gun and someone picked it up? What if she accidentally set it off herself?! _He tried to remember if he had flicked on the safety when he set it down... He'd be responsible if she hurt herself, or—God forbid!—if some kid found the gun! _Even more blood on his hands... _

He turned and headed back the way he'd come, intending to get his coat and go looking for her. When he rounded the corner to the back of the house, he saw her sitting on the deck—grinning at him. There was no sign of the Beretta. He stopped on the path and stared at her. After a moment he spread his arms in confusion. "What the hell!?"

She barked twice and wagged her tail.

"Where is it?" he demanded sternly, advancing on the dog.

Her tail stilled, and she backed away, crouching.

"What did you do with it, Bonnie?" He tried to control the anger in his tone. "Go get it."

She shook her head and chuffed. _'No way, Jack.'_

Jack started up the steps, and Bonnie turned and ran into the house. "Damn it!" He took the steps two at a time and dashed inside. Pausing, he scanned the kitchen and living area, but there was no sign of the dog. Heading down the hallway, he saw her standing in the door to his bedroom. She did not move as he walked toward her. He stopped outside the door.

Beyond her, on the bed, lay the gun.

"What kind of game do you think you're playing?" he demanded. He moved to go past her and she bared her teeth and growled threateningly at him. _'Not going in there!'_

He stopped and stared in shock. "Bonnie?"

He saw a steely expression shining from her eyes as she glared back at him. Again, as he stepped forward, she threatened him, her lip curling up over her teeth in a snarl. When he kept coming, she snapped at his leg, barking menacingly. He fell back a step, open-mouthed. "Come on, Bonnie... what is this?"

She snarled again, and took a step forward, forcing him farther across the hallway, until his back hit the wall. Jack stared at her. He could not believe for a moment that she would actually attack him! And yet...

When he made no further move, she sat down in the doorway, her eyes still watching him sharply. He looked past her again, into the room, at the pistol, and she growled deep in her chest, but remained sitting.

And at that moment it dawned on Jack that Bonnie had no intention of letting him near the gun! Stunned by this realization, he felt the anger drain out of him, and he sagged against the wall. _She knew? Somehow she knew... was that even possible? _

She was looking at him sadly now, all threat gone from her expression. _'No game, Jack.' _Tipping her head to one side, she chuffed questioningly. _'Do you get it now?' _

Standing was suddenly too much effort, and he let himself slide down slowly until he was sitting on the floor, knees drawn up in front of him. A wave of exhaustion washed over him, and he closed his eyes and dropped his head back against the wall. He didn't realize he was crying until he felt Bonnie's tongue gently wiping away his tears.

For a very long time he sat there, his arms around the dog, and her warm head tucked up comfortingly under his chin.


	10. Chapter 10

NEW YEAR'S DAY: A WELCOME CALL

It was long after dark when Jack finally rose stiffly from the hall floor. Bonnie stayed close at his heel as he went into the bedroom. Picking up the Beretta from the bed, he quickly removed the clip and ejected the cartridge from the chamber. Then he locked the gun and ammo in the steel box he kept in his closet. The key went into the top drawer of his dresser.

After that he sat on the bed, head hanging, exhausted. It was tempting to just lie down and sleep, but instead he eventually got up and went to the kitchen to make sure there was food and water for Bonnie. He let her out and then sat at the table as he waited for her to return. Feeling dazed and shaky, he laid his head down on his arms. When he heard her at the door, it took a couple of minutes to pull himself together enough to get up and let her in.

Wandering without any real purpose, he ended up in the living room and sat on the couch, grabbing the remote and switching on the television. It was set on the weather channel, and he turned the sound down very low and leaned back into the cushions, closing his eyes.

Bonnie whined and jumped up beside him, lying down and putting her head on his thigh. He let his hand fall to rest motionless on the back of her neck.

The ringing telephone woke him. For a moment, he didn't remember where he was, and he had no recollection of falling asleep. Beside him Bonnie stirred and yawned and settled again. He let his eyes close once more. The phone rang three more times before the answering machine picked up.

"Hi, Jack. It's Abby."

He opened his eyes at the sound of her voice.

"I'm just calling to say Happy New Year," she went on.

He struggled to sit upright and ran his hands over his face.

"It's a beautiful, clear night, so maybe you're out looking at the stars. Wish I was there with you."

_What?_ He frowned. Her voice washed over him, but he wasn't able to hang on to all the words.

"I'm coming home in a few days. Probably Wednesday or Thursday. My Dad's doing well, my brothers have things under control here, and I need to get back to the clinic."

She was coming home. He got that much. With an effort, he got to his feet and headed unsteadily toward the kitchen where the phone was located.

"I guess that's about all I have to say. I'll give you a call when I get home. Okay." She hesitated a moment. "Bye... I miss you."

He made a lunge and grabbed the receiver. "Abby! Don't hang up..."

There was a brief pause before she replied. "Oh, Jack! You _are_ there!"

"Mmm... Yeah. Hi. I was, um..."

"Were you sleeping? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"S'okay. Fell asleep on the couch. Gimme a sec." He cleared his throat. "Did I hear you say you're comin' home?"

"Yes. In just a few days."

He leaned on the counter, supporting himself on his elbows. "Mmm... okay. Tha's great... Sorry." He shook his head. "Can't seem to wake up..."

"Are you okay, Jack?" She sounded concerned. "Have you been drinking?"

"No. Haven't had anything to drink. Fell asleep on the couch..." He glanced at the clock—it was 9:35. "...an hour or so ago, I think. Let me get some water. Hang on." He dragged the phone over to the faucet, and filled a glass then moved toward a kitchen chair, but the cord was too short, so he sank to the floor in front of the sink, bringing the phone with him. He drank half the glass down, and took a deep breath. "Sorry, Abby. I was really tired when I fell asleep. It doesn't usually take me this long to wake up..."

"Are you sure you're okay? You seem... Is something wrong, Jack?"

He looked around the room. Bonnie had followed him into the kitchen, and lay on the floor in front of him. "I had kind of a rough afternoon," he admitted slowly. For the first time it occurred to him what he might have put Abby through if Bonnie hadn't intervened. _She may even have been the first person to come to his house..._ The thought made him break out in cold sweat.

"You want to talk about it?"

He shook his head. "No. Not right now. Not on the phone." _Probably never_. He struggled for something to change the subject. "So your dad is better?" The message she'd left was coming back to him.

"He's a lot better. The doctor said the break is healing very well, and he should be able to start rehab in just a few weeks."

"That's good news," Jack said. "How was the holiday with your folks?"

"It was great! Matt and Joe both came and brought their families! My nieces and nephews are growing so fast!"

"That's your two middle brothers, right?"

"Yes. Matt lives near San Francisco, and Joe's in Seattle. They each have two kids."

"How old are the kids?" Jack asked. Asking questions was easier—_safer_—than answering them.

"Matt's are five and three. Joe's are six and two and a half, I think. It was so much fun to watch them on Christmas morning!"

"I'll just bet it was."

"Oh, and Robby and his girlfriend Heike announced their engagement—so there's going to be a wedding in about eight months. I told you about Robby, didn't I? He and Heike met when they were in high school—she was an exchange student. They've been in touch ever since."

"Yeah. I remember. She's from Germany."

"That's right." There was a brief pause. "What have you been doing? Did you go anywhere for Christmas?" she asked.

"Not really. Went to a hockey game one night. When are you coming home?"

"Wednesday or Thursday. It depends on which day Alan can bring me down. He's pretty busy with Dad laid up." Jack knew that Alan was Abby's twin. He and Robby, the youngest brother, both lived on the ranch and worked with their father. "Or I might catch a bus if I can get into the city," she continued. She didn't own a car—in fact, she didn't drive. He'd been surprised when he found that out.

"_How do you get around?" he'd asked._

_She had laughed. "Buses. Taxis. Ever heard of public transportation? I also walk a lot. And I have a bike for good weather." _

"Listen," he said to her now. "I have nothing better to do, why don't Bonnie and I come and get you?"

"Oh, I don't want to..."

"You're not inconveniencing me," he interrupted. "I want to see you," he added seriously. The way he was feeling today, he really _needed_ to see her.

"I'd like to see you, too," she said softly. "Okay. Yes, come on up to the ranch. You'll like my folks. Dad will want to show off his horses. Maybe you can even stay overnight," she suggested. When all she heard then was silence on his end, she hurried on. "That's up to you, of course. If you'd rather not—it's not that far that we couldn't go back the same day..."

"Uh... yeah. That's..." He changed his mind mid-stream. "Hey, why not? It would be nice to meet your folks. I can bring a sleeping bag and crash on the floor somewhere."

"It's a _Bed _and Breakfast, Jack," she laughed. "There's plenty of beds. And the Holidays will be over, so it won't be all that busy."

"Okay. Sounds good. When should I come?"

"Most of our guests will be checking out Tuesday, and things will settle down. So... how about Thursday?"

"That's four days away," he said without thinking, then tried to cover his disappointment. "Sure. That'll be fine," he said cheerfully, then bit his lip as she remained quiet for a minute. _Crap, her instincts were too damn good._

"It _is_ four days, isn't it," she said, as if it hadn't occurred to her. "That's a long time. I don't think I want to wait that long to see you. Come Tuesday instead. It may be a little busy around here, but by noon it'll be calming down..."

"Abby..."

"Please, Jack?" She allowed a faint note of entreaty to color her voice. "It's been more than two weeks, and I've missed you," she admitted.

He closed his eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat. "I missed you, too," he said softly. "Okay, Tuesday it is. How do I get there?"

She gave him directions. "Take the Lunenburg exit off the highway," she concluded. "There's a sign there for Sheldon Lake Ranch. You can't miss it. The road winds up into the hills, but it's only about three miles. It takes an hour and a half or so from the Springs."

"Okay. I'll plan to be there around one? Does that work?"

"Anytime will be fine, Jack," she assured him.

"I'll be glad to pitch in if there's work that needs to be done," he offered after a silent moment.

"Oh, Alan can probably find something for you to do! That's if my dad doesn't snag you first. Do you know anything about horses?"

"Uh...four feet. They go _neeeiiiigh."_

She laughed. "Oh, my dad is going to love you!"

"Well I grew up in Minnesota," he defended himself. "They had cars there, even back then. And the Air Force has jet planes, y'know."

She was still laughing. "Did you ever ride?" she asked at last.

"A few times," he said more seriously. "It's been a while."

"It'll come back to you," she said confidently. "It's one of those things you don't forget. It's easy."

"Huh! My backside probably won't think so!" he griped. Then his voice softened. "But for you I'll give it a try."

**xxxxx**

**A/N – Many thanks to everyone for reading and for commenting—especially to the guest reviewers! **

**AND... To the guest who thinks I may be pushing it with Bonnie's ability to think – You may be right! LOL! But I can only beg your indulgence! I grew up with Lassie, Rin Tin Tin, and Bullet – dogs that were heroes – intelligent, brave, true, loyal, loving, strong, etc, etc, etc. In other words, better companions than most people! I'm having a wonderful time writing about Bonnie. And no, she's not an ascended being—but that's an interesting thought. (Can dogs ascend? Hmmm... ) Thanks so much for your comments! I'm gratified that you found the chapter heartwarming. I hope you'll continue to enjoy the story. **


	11. Chapter 11

**I find myself apologizing yet again for a long wait between chapters! Maybe I should post an on-going apology on my profile page, since this is not the only story affected, and it seems clear that this will happen over and over again :-/ **

**Thank you to anyone who is still reading, and many thanks for any feedback—even if it's a complaint for tardiness!**

**~x~x~**

**Previously...**

"I have nothing better to do," Jack said to Abby on the phone. "Why don't Bonnie and I come and get you?"

"Oh, I don't want to..."

"You're not inconveniencing me," he interrupted. "I want to see you," he added seriously. The way he was feeling today, he really _needed_ to see her.

"I'd like to see you, too," she said softly. "Okay. Yes, come on up to the ranch. You'll like my folks. Dad will want to show off his horses."

"Okay. Sounds good. When should I come?"

"Most of our guests will be checking out Tuesday, and things will settle down. So... how about Thursday?"

"That's four days away," he said without thinking, then tried to cover his disappointment. "Sure. That'll be fine!" He bit his lip as she remained quiet for a minute. _Crap, her instincts were too damn good._

"It _is_ four days, isn't it," she said, as if it hadn't occurred to her. "That's a long time. I don't think I want to wait that long to see you. Come Tuesday instead. It may be a little busy around here, but by noon it'll be calming down..."

"Abby..."

"Please, Jack?" She allowed a faint note of entreaty to color her voice. "It's been a long time, and I've missed you," she admitted.

He closed his eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat. "I missed you, too," he said softly. "Okay, Tuesday it is."

"I'll plan to be there around one? Does that work?" he asked after she'd given him directions.

"Anytime will be fine, Jack," she assured him.

"I'll be glad to pitch in if there's work that needs to be done," he offered after a silent moment.

"Oh, Alan can probably find something for you to do! That's if my dad doesn't snag you first. Do you know anything about horses?"

"Uh...four feet. They go _neeeiiiigh."_

She laughed. "My dad is going to love you!"

"Well I grew up in Minnesota," he defended himself. "They had cars there, even back then. And the Air Force has jet planes, y'know."

She was still laughing. "Did you ever ride?" she asked at last.

"A few times," he said more seriously. "It's been a while."

"It'll come back to you," she said confidently. "It's one of those things you don't forget. It's easy."

"Huh! My backside probably won't think so!" he griped. Then his voice softened. "But for you I'll give it a try."

**~X~X~X~**

**JANUARY: TRUST**

**~part I~**

On Tuesday morning, unable to sleep, Jack rose before his alarm. He showered and then shaved carefully. Scruffiness was not his thing—thanks to his years in the Air Force. However, in the past couple of weeks, he'd let his personal hygiene slide a bit, and the visible evidence was the stubble on his cheeks. He put a new blade in the razor, and was meticulously cleaning up all the whiskers he could find.

His thoughts turned to the call from Abby on Sunday night, and how much the conversation had helped him regain his equilibrium. Simply talking with her had made him feel... safer, so much more grounded. The sound of her voice calmed him, even when she was talking about nothing important. How much better to be able to touch her, put his arms around her!

Jack was bemused by the way she always seemed to understand him. And how, without addressing a subject directly, she often did or said exactly the right thing to make him feel comfortable. He realized that somewhere along the way he'd begun to rely on her empathy and instincts...

He paused, staring at his face in the mirror. _How had he let that happen? She was so easy to be with, and seemed to know him so well..._

But how could she really know him? He closed his eyes for a beat. _It wasn't possible_—because there was so much he had not told her. _Secrecy._ It was his way of life—spillover from years of secret ops, classified, black, deep cover missions. _Don't talk. Don't give anything away. Your life depends on it..._

In truth, that was the way he operated anyway, on a personal level. Always had. He never revealed his true thoughts—never talked about emotions. _But the way she seemed to know his feelings..._ He'd been shocked to find that it was strangely comforting. Instead of feeling exposed, he felt... cherished.

Still he had told her almost nothing. She knew of his divorce, but nothing about his marriage. He hadn't even mentioned Sara's name. And he didn't tell her about Charlie at all.

He knew many things about her. Her ex-husband's name. Why the marriage had failed. Her futile attempts to have children. Right now he was on the way to meet her _parent_s—for crying out loud! She didn't even know whether he had any family!

Staring into his own eyes in the mirror, he saw the guilt there. It was unfair of him not to share with her. Why did she even remain friends with him? He'd given her almost nothing of himself! And the truth was, he didn't know if he could.

After all, twice in the past five months he'd been on the verge of killing himself! It could happen again.

The trigger this time had been a simple excursion to a hockey game. What might it be in a week... a month, a year... from now? He'd never thought of it like that before—now he couldn't shake the idea. _He was suicidal._ There was no way he could share that with her. Nor, in all honesty, could he keep it from her, if he wanted to continue seeing her.

He stared at his half-shaved face in the mirror for several long minutes before resuming the task...

**~x~**

By seven-thirty he had dressed, eaten breakfast, packed a change of clothes in a duffle, tossed in his toothbrush and razor, and was ready to leave. He knew it was way too early, and even driving slowly, he'd be there long before noon, but he was anxious to get going. Now that the day was here, the closer it came, the more anxious he was to see Abby.

He forced himself to put off his departure until just after nine, and then headed out, taking I-25 north out of Colorado Springs toward Denver. He deliberately held his speed under the 55 mph limit. At a rest area about twenty miles north, he pulled through the MacDonald's drive-through and got a coffee, drinking it as he drove.

Thirty-five minutes later, he spotted a diner, and decided to stop and kill some more time. Inside he ordered breakfast, lingering over the food for longer than necessary, to delay his arrival at the Sheldon ranch a bit longer. He'd picked a seat at the windows, giving him a view of the snow-covered mountains to the west. As the weather service had predicted, the day was bright and sunny, and the roads were clear.

Finally, taking along a breakfast sandwich he'd bought for Bonnie, he returned to the truck and let her out for a few minutes, then set off on the last leg of his drive.

**~x~**

It was nearly noon when Jack reached the ranch. Finding the place had not been a problem. The route was well marked, and he'd turned onto the private road beneath a wooden gate with Sheldon Lake Ranch emblazoned above. The road was unpaved, but well-kept, and, as Abby had said, wound up into the hills for two miles or so before opening onto a wide hidden valley where the ranch was located. There was a lake—as the name suggested—and a cluster of buildings, and he drove down into the valley, enjoying the beautiful view. As he neared what appeared to be the main house, he could see the corrals and barns housing the horses which Abby had indicated were her father's pride and joy.

He pulled into a parking area at the side of the house, and shut off the truck. Bonnie whined to get out, so he opened the door and climbed down to the ground. She followed immediately and proceeded to investigate this new setting, sniffing and checking out each nook and cranny. Jack grinned at her antics.

"Jack!"

He raised his eyes at the sound of his name, and saw Abby descending the steps at the side of the house. She was dressed in jeans and parka and her hair curled from under the toque she was wearing.

"Hi!" He waved and a moment later she reached him and threw her arms around him happily, raising her face for a kiss. He resisted the urge to clutch her desperately in his arms, and forced himself to keep the embrace appropriate.

"Welcome!" she exclaimed. "How was the drive?'

"It was fine," he said, keeping an arm around her. "Your directions were perfect. This is a great place!" He waved a hand around to encompass the valley and the buildings.

"Isn't it wonderful!" she agreed, grinning. "My great-great-grandfather settled here originally, shortly after the Civil War. He was from Virginia, and had pretty much lost everything in the war. So like a lot of others at that time, he headed West."

Bonnie ran up just then and circled the two of them, whining softly for attention. Abby dropped into a crouch and hugged the dog, who licked her face delightedly. "Hey, girl! I missed you!" Abby exclaimed, scratching behind her ears and causing Bonnie to go into a frenzy of tail-wagging. The two cuddled happily for a few moments, before Abby got to her feet, grinning.

She slipped her hand into Jack's, and linked their fingers. "I'm so glad you're here! Come in the house and meet my folks."

"Sure," he replied.

He got his bag out of the truck, and she led him toward the door. They knocked the snow off their feet on the porch, and Abby opened the door into a mud room. She took off her boots, and Jack followed suit, standing his boots next to hers against the wall. They hung their coats on wall hooks.

"Is it okay for Bonnie to come in?" Jack asked at the door.

"Of course! We have a couple of dogs, too, but they're somewhere outside with my brothers right now. Everyone'll be in for lunch soon." She pushed open the inside door.

The huge kitchen was warm and bright and smelled wonderful. Jack could see into the dining room beyond, where a large table was set for a number of people.

A man in his sixties, with a cast on his left leg, was sitting at the smaller kitchen table reading a newspaper. A petite woman with silver-threaded auburn hair, and eyes the same as Abby's, turned from her work with a smile, and reached for a towel to wipe her hands.

Abby pulled Jack forward. "Mom and Dad, this is Jack O'Neill. Jack, these are my parents, Ben and Natalie Sheldon."

Natalie held out her hand, and smiled. "Welcome, Jack. It's good to meet you."

"Thank you, Mrs. Sheldon." He shook her hand. In the meantime, Ben had half-risen, despite his cast. "Don't get up, sir," Jack said quickly, moving toward the older man.

"Oh, I'm fine, I'm fine." Standing, Ben Sheldon was nearly as tall as Jack, and muscular. "The doc says it's good for me to move." He shook Jack's hand warmly. "Nice to meet you, Jack. No trouble finding the place, I hope."

"Not at all. Abby's directions were perfect."

"Great! Have a seat." He indicated a kitchen chair.

"Would you like some coffee?" Natalie Sheldon asked.

"Thank you, ma'am. That would be great."

"Lunch is just about ready," Natalie said, getting the coffee. "We still have a few guests who will be in." Setting the cup in front of Jack, she turned back to open the oven. More wonderful aromas wafted into the room.

"What do you need me to do, Mom?" Abby asked.

"Take the meatballs out of the oven and set them on the table, and set another place for Jack," Natalie replied. "Then you can ring the bell to call them in."

"Okay." Abby grabbed oven mitts and took a large casserole dish from the oven and placed it on the dining room table. From cupboards and drawers she took dishes and utensils, adding the setting to the large table. Then she stepped out the door, and a moment later a gong sounded three times.

It was only a few minutes later when half a dozen people trooped in. Abby introduced Jack to her brothers, Alan and Robby, and to Robby's fiancée, Heike. He also met the four guests who were present, a family from St. Louis—Jim and Carrie Wales and their two sons, Jimmy and Nick, who were about twelve and fourteen. The family had been out riding, with Heike as their guide.

Lunch was chaotic and delicious. Even though it was only about two hours since he'd had breakfast, Jack ate his share of the Swedish meatballs, macaroni and cheese, peas, beets, salad and homemade bread that Abby and her mother had placed on the table. Dessert was a peach cobbler that was to die for.

It turned out that the Wales family was leaving that afternoon to return home. They were apparently repeat guests from previous years because the conversation was that of long-standing friends. After lunch they excused themselves to go and pack.

Abby and Heike helped Natalie clean up the kitchen—Jack's offer to assist was firmly refused. So Jack found himself seated with Abby's father and brothers in the adjoining den.

"Abby said you're ex-military," Alan commented, as he relaxed on the couch.

"I was in the Air Force for twenty-five years. I retired about four months ago," Jack replied. Abby had warned him previously that he might get a third-degree when he met her menfolk.

"Injured?" Robby asked.

"Blew out a knee. It's much better now," he added at their sympathetic expressions. "I just figured it was time to try something different."

"Where did you serve?" Alan resumed.

Jack considered his answer for a beat. "I was a flight instructor at several different bases. Before that I was in Vietnam, right at the end. I also served in the Middle East—but a lot of what I did there was classified." He'd already admitted that much to Abby, and figured she may have shared it with her family.

"Dad was in Korea," Robby said, glancing at his father. "He was in the Army."

"It was after the armistice," Ben said. "I was there in '55 and '56. My two obligatory years. I couldn't wait to get back home," he admitted.

"I can understand why," Jack said. "This is a beautiful place. Abby told me it's been in the family for a long time."

"That's right!" Ben smiled. "These guys are the fourth generation of Sheldons to be born here..." After that, the conversation veered off into the history of the ranch.

Half an hour later, Alan and Robby got up, saying they needed to get back to work. Robby had made friends with Bonnie as they sat there, and when he asked if she would want go outside with them, Jack agreed. Heike donned her outdoor garments and went with them. Natalie Sheldon came in to remind Ben that the doctors had ordered him to take a rest in the afternoons, and he left reluctantly.

"That was a nice red herring," Abby told Jack shortly thereafter, as she showed him to his room. It was obvious she had overheard the men talking.

"I don't know what you mean," he said innocently.

She huffed a laugh. "You are so good at diverting the conversation away from yourself." She had not failed to notice that tendency when the two of them talked as well.

He reddened slightly. "Well, I'm not really very interesting. But the history of your family is fascinating."

"Yeah. Sure." They climbed the stairs, and Abby led him to a door at the end of the hall. "This is your room."

It was a corner room, and there were double windows in both outside walls. The view was breathtaking. He dropped his bag on the floor and crossed the room to stare out at the mountains. "Great view!"

"Yes, it is." She came up behind him and slid her arms around his waist, laying her cheek against his back. He turned in her arms and folded her into an embrace. His chin rested easily on the top of her head.

"Come here," he whispered, and eased them over to the bed, where he sat down and pulled her onto his lap. She was smiling as her arms went around his neck and she brushed her lips against his.

The first touch deepened, until their mouths melded and their lips parted to allow tongues to caress. Both of them were breathless when they parted.

"I really did miss you," he said softly.

"Missed you, too. A lot," she admitted.

He shifted their position, until she lay back on the mattress, and he leaned over her. He lowered his mouth to hers for another long kiss, and after that eased off just enough to scatter tiny kisses on her cheeks and jaw.

When he reached the curve of her neck, she gave a throaty sigh which staggered his senses for a moment, and he shifted instinctively, until he lay half on top of her, with one knee thrust between her thighs. His erection pressed strongly, low on her belly, and her hips jerked slightly, causing him to groan. Her hands were on his waist, pressing and stroking through the fabric of his shirt, until her fingers slipped under his waistband and kneaded the hard muscles of his bottom. "Oh, God, Abby..."

His hand rose to her breast, and even through the fabric of her heavy shirt, he could feel the shape of rigid nipple. He circled it with one finger and then rolled the nub firmly between thumb and finger. She made an inarticulate sound and thrust her hips hard against his thigh. He unfastened her shirt buttons until he could slip his hand inside and caress her breast with only a thin undershirt between their skin. The temptation of her skin was too great, and he pulled the shirt out of her waist, and smoothed his palm up along her ribs. She squirmed and seated herself more firmly against his thigh, and one of her hands came around to caress his erection through his jeans.

Through the haze of lust clouding his senses, Jack fought for control, removing his hand to Abby's shoulder, and then cupping her jaw. With an effort, he withdrew his knee from the heat between her legs, and stilled her stroking hand.

She opened dazed eyes to look at him. "Jack...?" she whispered.

He dropped his forehead to touch hers. "God, Abby... I want you..."

She sighed, and her next words were full of resignation and understanding. "I know... I want you, too. But..." She gave a small strained laugh and raised one hand to wave vaguely at the room.

"Yeah," he said. "Not here. Later...when we get back home."

She chuckled. "Not in my parents' house, you mean."

Jack felt the heat flush his face. "That's part of it," he admitted. He eased himself away from her. Not too quickly. He didn't want to move, but knew he had to.

As soon as he was clear, she sat up and moved close to him, resting her head on his shoulder. "What's the other part?" she asked.

"We need to talk... I need to talk." He was glad he couldn't see her face at this moment. "It's hard for me. I don't talk about... myself."

"Yeah, I've noticed that," she said with gentle humor, but no reproach in her voice.

He was silent for several long moments. She simply sat beside him and enjoyed his nearness, savored the warmth of his body against her side. She had almost decided he wasn't going to speak again, when he drew an audible breath.

"You know I was married," he said. "Sara and I were together for sixteen years. Married for thirteen. She filed for divorce this past September."

He'd never even mentioned his wife's name before, much less how long they'd been married. "Sixteen years," she said softly. She and Nathan hadn't even made it to four. She had told Jack about her husband's reaction when she didn't get pregnant in the first year—about his anger, and laying the blame on her. The doctors said there was nothing wrong, but Nathan didn't believe them. From then on the marriage was a disaster. It had taken her more than two years to realize it was never going to work. She'd loved him enough to hang on much longer than she should have...

Abby mentally shook away the memories. It was Jack's turn now to tell his story.

But it seemed he'd already run out of words. She moved a little so she could look up into his face. His eyes were closed and his features drawn with pain. One other time she'd seen that look on his face—the day she met him, as he was watching the people line up for dinner at St. Michael's. Suddenly she was certain—_there was more to this than simply a bitter divorce._ She opened her mouth to speak...

"Abby!" Her brother's voice floated up from downstairs.

**~X~X~X~**


	12. Chapter 12

**Thanks again for reading. **

**xxxxx**

**Previously...**

"You know I was married," Jack said. "Sara and I were together for sixteen years. Married for thirteen. She filed for divorce this past September."

He'd never even mentioned his wife's name before, much less how long they'd been married. "Sixteen years," she said softly. She and Nathan hadn't even made it to four... Abby mentally shook away her own memories. It was Jack's turn now to tell his story.

But it seemed he'd already run out of words. She moved a little so she could look up into his face. His eyes were closed and his features drawn with pain. One other time she'd seen that look on his face—the day she met him, as he was watching the people line up for dinner at St. Mike's. Suddenly she was certain—_there was more to this than simply a bitter divorce._ She opened her mouth to speak...

"Abby!" Her brother's voice floated up from downstairs.

**~X~X~X~**

**JANUARY: TRUST**

**~part II~**

"Abby!" Alan called again.

Jack's eyes snapped open and he drew a sharp breath. He glanced around and Abby could see him visibly pull himself together.

She caught his hand and squeezed it. "It's okay," she said quietly. She got up and went to the door. "Yes, Alan," she called. "We're upstairs. What's up?"

"Ajax cut his leg! We need you down at the barn!"

"Okay! Coming!" She went back to Jack's side.

"Ajax?" he asked.

"One of Dad's favorite horses." She leaned over and kissed him. "You don't have to come..."

He stood up. "I'll come."

"You sure...?"

"Of course," he assured her. "Unless I'd be in the way..."

"No." She smiled and held out her hand.

He took it and followed her out the door.

Downstairs they grabbed boots and coats and headed to the barn.

The horse was a beautiful dark chestnut with a black mane and tail. He was standing in what Jack learned later was a restraining stall, designed for veterinary use. It was set in an open area, with easy access all around, and some distance away from the regular stalls. The close side bars allowed for very little movement and Ajax's head was haltered. Heike was at his head, stroking and talking to him quietly. He was holding his right front foot up and Jack could see where blood had dripped onto the ground. A first aid box was already open beside the stall.

Abby went around in front of Ajax, so that he could see her. "Hey, big boy," she said calmly, stoking his head, then slowly running her hand over his neck and down his leg. "Easy. Let me see..." She squatted and gently took the injured leg in her hands. The horse twitched, but otherwise did not move. "That's a boy... It looks like a clean cut. Do we know how it happened?"

"I found him like this at the fence," Heike said quietly. "There's nothing close by that he could have cut himself on, but he's been out in the main corral all morning."

"We'll check as soon as you get him patched up," Robby added. He was standing beside Heike. "Don't want any of the others getting hurt."

Jack stood with Alan and watched as Abby cleaned the cut and reached into the first aid box for other supplies. The antiseptic cleanser must have stung for the horse tried to pull away, but the close bars of the stall and the halter would not allow him much movement. Heike talked to him constantly, softly, in German. Jack caught 'Liebchen' and one or two other endearments.

Behind him Jack heard the barn door open—it had been closed to keep the dogs out—and he turned to seen Ben Sheldon coming toward them on his crutches, Natalie walking beside him. They stopped near Jack, several feet away from the stall.

"What happened?" Ben asked.

"Ajax cut his foreleg on something. We're not sure what," Alan answered. "Abby's fixing him up."

"I'm going to use a local anesthetic and put in a couple of stitches," Abby explained at she worked.

Jack watched as the rest of the operation seemed to go very smoothly. Abby was quick and efficient, and the horse seemed to be in very little pain.

"We'll leave him in the restraining stall for a little while, until the anesthetic wears off. Don't want him to trip up if he puts his weight on the leg." Abby said when she was finished. "How long since his last tetanus vaccination?"

"About two months ago," Robby said. "I'll double check, but I'm sure he's up to date."

Abby nodded. "Good. You should be able to put him back in his regular stall in an hour or so."

"I can stay out here and make sure he doesn't get agitated," Heike said.

"Good idea," Abby agreed.

Ben hobbled over and stroked the horse's head, talking to him. Robby and Alan went out to see if they could find whatever Ajax had cut himself on. Once Abby had restored the supplies to the first aid box and disposed of the used bandages, she came over to stand by Jack.

"Is he okay?" he asked.

"He'll be fine. It isn't very deep. I gave him a shot of antibiotics just in case." She glanced down at her jeans, which were spattered with blood. "I need to go clean up and change."

Jack, Abby, Natalie and Ben headed back to the house.

"You were really good with the horse," Jack commented, as they crossed the yard. "He trusts you."

"Ajax knows me," she said. "He's usually very cooperative."

"Abby was always good with animals. She started bringing home injured ones when she was about five," Natalie told Jack, glancing fondly at her daughter. "Our shed was an infirmary. Birds with broken wings, things like that."

"She's a sucker for anything in pain," Ben added. "It sometimes cost her, though. Hurt animals bite!" He grinned at Abby. "Remember the badger."

Jack looked at her in surprise. "You brought home a badger? Aren't they mean?"

"Only if they're hurt or cornered. But no, I didn't bring it home. He let me know he didn't want to be touched." Abby held up her left hand and pointed out a pale scar on the heel of her palm.

"But you talked me into going back with you to check on him." Ben turned to Jack and explained. "He'd been caught in a trap, and she wanted me to help her get him loose. He was gone when we got back there, and I can't say I was sorry." He smiled at Abby. "She worried about him for a week."

Jack sat in the kitchen with Ben while Abby went to clean up and change her clothes. Natalie brought the men coffee, and then disappeared, saying she had things to attend to. The last guests were gone and the rooms needed cleaning. Jack offered to help, but she just laughed and pointed to her husband. "Keep him out of trouble. That would help me tremendously."

Ben shook his head as she left. "She thinks I can't manage steps and things with the crutches."

"You do have to be careful," Jack suggested. "I've spent some time on crutches myself."

Ben looked at him curiously. "Been hurt a lot, have you?"

"More than I wanted to be—broke my leg a few years ago."

"How'd it happen to you? Bet you didn't fall off a ladder."

Jack grinned. "Nope, no ladders. My parachute didn't open. Smashed several bones in that one."

Ben whistled, suddenly serious. "You were lucky, son. Where were you jumping?"

"It was a training exercise," Jack said blandly. "In the desert." _Well, the desert part was true, at least._

"And after that you still stayed in the Air Force?" Ben's tone said he would have been long gone.

"Did I tell you I hit my head pretty hard, too?" Jack added with a grin.

Ben laughed. "That explains it!"

Time to change the subject, Jack thought. "So Abby must've decided to be a vet when she was just a kid."

"Yes, I think she was about eight." Ben smiled, diverted because his daughter was one of his favorite subjects. "She was already helping with the horses when they were hurt or sick, and the highlight of her week was the visit by the local vet. I think it was the best part of his, too," he chuckled. "Doc Lloyd loved having her tag along after him..."

For the next half hour Jack listened contentedly while Ben talked about Abby. He was clearly very proud of her.

When Abby had cleaned up and changed, she found her mother in one of the rooms which had been occupied by the Wales family. Natalie had just stripped the king sized bed.

"Well, Mom, what do you think about him?" Abby asked as she took one side of the comforter to help adjust it. Clean sheets would not be put on until they were needed.

"Ajax? Oh, I think he'll be fine."

"Mom!"

Natalie laughed. "Oh, you mean Jack?"

Abby rolled her eyes. "Of course I mean Jack. I know you haven't had much chance to talk to him, but what do you think?"

"He seems very nice, sweetheart," Natalie's tone was more serious. "And he's very handsome and charming."

"That he is," Abby admitted ruefully.

Natalie looked up at her tone. "Abby...?"

She gave a wistful sigh. "I really like him, Mom..."

"Seems he likes you, too. So, what's wrong?"

"I don't know. There's this nagging little voice in my head. Like a warning." She sighed and sat down on the side of the bed. "Do you think that's still a holdover from Nathan?"

"Honey, Nathan treated you terribly. That was six years ago, and you haven't found someone you cared for since then. I know you've been avoiding getting close to anybody." Natalie sat beside Abby and put an arm around her shoulders. "Nathan was a very bad experience. But not everyone is like him. You just have to get to know Jack better and find out."

"That's the problem, Mom. He doesn't talk about himself."

"Well, how does he behave toward you?"

"He's great! He's always considerate and never pushes... uh..." she paused uncomfortably.

"It's okay, sweetheart." Natalie smiled. "I know what you mean. I'm a woman, too. And you're grown up."

Abby managed a grin at that. "Anyway, he's a perfect gentleman. You wouldn't believe how sweet he can be. But I really wish he'd talk to me."

"Then ask him about himself."

"That doesn't get me very far. The few times I've tried, he's avoided giving a straight answer." Abby laid her head on her mother's shoulder. "I think he was about to say something important when Alan called me out to take care of Ajax."

"Then maybe he's ready to talk now. Just make sure you give him the opportunity. Don't try to fill up all the silences yourself."

Abby huffed. "Are you saying I talk too much, Mom!"

"No... well, not really." The two women looked at each other and smiled. "You take after your dad. You just have a lot to say."

"No!" Abby pretended to be shocked and they both laughed.

After a moment Natalie grew serious again. "Honey, I think Jack may have also been hurt. There's something sad about him."

"I wondered if you'd notice that. I saw it the first time I met him."

"Oh?"

"I don't know what it is," Abby admitted. "But it brings me back to the not-talking thing. Sometimes I feel like he needs me—but then he pulls away again. He's just so... so self-contained."

"Maybe he doesn't trust very easily," Natalie suggested. "Wait... don't get upset," she added at Abby's hurt glance. "Think about it. How well does he really know you? How long have you known each other?"

"Since just before Thanksgiving."

Natalie nodded. "And you haven't seen him since before Christmas. So you've actually only spent a few days together, all totaled."

"That's true. It just seems longer, somehow. I mean we get along so well—we have fun together. And I've talked—I've told him about myself..."

"Have you told him about Nathan?"

Abby winced. "Not everything. Some of it's so hard to talk about..." She stopped and studied the meaningful look on her mother's face. "You think I'm expecting too much, too soon, don't you? The first time we went out was the seventh of December, and I came home on the nineteen. So we've really only spent about two weeks dating. And there are lots of things I haven't talked about. If I'm not ready to share yet, I can't really expect him to."

"Trust is sometimes a slow process, Abby. You have to be patient. With him and with yourself."

**~x~**

During the afternoon Abby showed Jack around the ranch. They saddled horses and rode for ten or twelve miles, circling into the hills to see some of the most beautiful landscapes Jack had seen in a long time. It was getting dark when they returned.

Jack climbed down off his horse and groaned. "That is gonna hurt so bad tomorrow," he predicted, rubbing his back.

"Go in and get a hot shower," Abby told him. "I'll take care of the horses."

"That's not fair..." he protested.

"Go!" She shooed him off. "The shower will help."

She was right, he admitted as he stood under the hot water. He was relaxed and exhausted by the time he got out. He pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt and lay down on the bed. The next thing he knew Abby was bouncing lightly on the edge of the mattress and laughing at him.

"Are you hungry?" she asked.

"Yeah." He sat up, surprised that the predicted aches were not nearly as bad as he expected.

Supper was very casual—leftovers, salad and sandwiches. Every man for himself. Since they served breakfast and often lunch for the guests, the evening meal was always a pick-up affair. They used paper plates and the guys loaded the dishwasher and cleaned up the kitchen. Jack was happy to help.

In the den someone set up a scrabble game. Abby tried to get Jack to play but he refused with a grin, saying he was a dreadful speller, and sat on the couch to watch. Bonnie jumped up beside him and rested her head on his thigh. Soon he found himself slouching against the cushions, so tired that he had no desire to fight it. It was a good kind of tired, the kind that allowed his body and mind to relax. His awareness began to drift...

"Jack."

His eyes snapped open and the vague dream he'd been having vanished like mist.

"Sorry." Abby sat down on the couch beside him. "I didn't mean to startle you."

He rubbed his eyes and breathed deeply. "Guess I dozed off. Who won the game?"

"My dad. He only beat me by twelve points, though."

He glanced around the deserted room. "Where did everybody go?"

"Bed. We're followers of Ben Franklin around here. 'Early to bed, early to rise...' Looks like you're ready to sack out, too."

He covered her hand with his. "Sorry I wasn't better company tonight. Your folks must think I'm rude..."

"Not at all. There's usually at least one of us nodding off after supper. It's all that hard work and cold mountain air." She turned her hand and laced her fingers with his casually. "You can relax here, Jack. If you're tired, then it's bedtime."

In a smooth move he looped his arm over her head, taking their clasped hands with it, and effectively trapping her small body close against his large one. "Is that an invitation?" he whispered.

An uncertain expression crossed her features, and he immediately retreated, releasing her. "I'm sorry. That was inappropriate."

"It's okay," she said, leaning against his shoulder and giggling a little nervously. "It must be that whole 'parents in the house, boyfriend on the couch' scenario. A holdover from my teen years."

He laughed quietly at that. "You must have had lots of boyfriends."

She shook her head. "Not really."

"Hard to believe—as beautiful as you are."

"Tomboy," she said, pointing at herself. "Always smelled like horse. And if that wasn't bad enough, I had four brothers watching." She looked at him, frowning. "Did you mean it?"

"Mean what?" he teased, making her blush. "Of course I meant it. You're very beautiful." He tipped her head up with a finger under her chin, then leaned down and kissed her. "And you do not smell like horse," he whispered against her lips.

Just then Bonnie yipped and pushed her nose into Abby's lap. "Another country heard from," Abby laughed, rubbing the dog's head.

Jack stretched his arms and straightened. "Well, I guess I'd better let her out for a few minutes, and then get to bed." He sat forward on the couch and Bonnie looked up eagerly. "Yes, I mean you."

He got to his feet and reached down a hand to pull Abby to her feet. Bonnie scampered off toward the kitchen, and Jack followed, letting her out the back door. He stood on the step and looked around, looking up at the gibbous moon as he waited for the dog. She returned in a few minutes and they went back into the house.

Abby was waiting in the kitchen. "Merry Christmas, Jack." She handed him a package, wrapped in silver paper, with a red ribbon.

He stared at it for a moment. "You got me a present?" He sounded shocked.

"It's not much," she assured him.

"Well I hope not...because I never even thought..."

She rounded her eyes in mock horror and slapped her chest dramatically. "What? No present?" And she laughed to show she was teasing.

"I'm sorry..." he began, giving her a contrite look.

"Jack, it's fine. It really isn't much of anything. I saw it when I was shopping with my mom and it made me think of you. Open it." She gestured toward the package.

He sighed. "Okay." He lifted the box carefully, testing its weight—it was not very heavy, a pound or so, no more. He set it on the on the nearby kitchen table. It was about the size of a shoe box. A bit smaller actually. He studied the shape...

Suddenly he realized he was assessing the object as if it could possibly hold a threat. He looked up; Abby was grinning at him. In a swift, decisive move he reached out and pulled the ribbon free. Then he flipped it over and slit the tape, unwrapped the paper.

The box in his hand had a picture of a motorcycle on it, with the designation Harley Sportster. His eyebrows rose and he looked at Abby.

"You said you had one of those once," she said.

"Yeah," he said, a slow smile breaking across his features. "It was my uncle's, he gave it to me. Needed lots of work. He helped me restore it. The summer after graduation I rode the bike from Minnesota to Alaska and back. I was gone nearly three months. A week after I got back I enlisted. Put the Harley in storage and never rode it again. Where'd you find the model?"

"It was in a little hobby shop in the mall in Denver. There was lots of random stuff. Toys, games, sports cards—that sort of thing."

"Thanks a lot. This is very cool!"

She smiled. "Glad you like it. It's not one of the expensive kind..."

He stopped her by pulling her to him and bending down to kiss her. They stood there in the kitchen with their arms around each other for several moments.

Abruptly Jack gave a huge yawn, breaking the mood.

Abby laughed and looked at the clock. "Ten thirty. Later than I thought. Ready to go upstairs?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

They climbed the stairs holding hands, and she walked him to his door. Jack kissed her again in the doorway, and then she left him there and headed for her own bedroom down the hall.


End file.
